


Like an Animal

by Aki_Aiko



Category: Glee
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Mental Illness, Self-Harm, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Aiko/pseuds/Aki_Aiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's mother ran off ten years ago.  The son Burt gets back is like an animal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost Son

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: mental illness. dub-con. self-harm. mentions of child abuse, both sexual and physical. Violence.
> 
> PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. I cannot stress this enough.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burt brings his lost son home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited: 8-3-2015

Detective Paul Johnson eased into the blood-splattered apartment where three men, all known drug dealers, lay dead. No great loss there. Whatever they'd been selling was long gone, as was whoever killed them.

"Hey, Paul, you hear something?" Johnson's partner, Olsen, asked.

Johnson paused, gun raised slightly, and listened for any sounds in the deathly quiet room. A moment later, he heard it. "It's just rats," he scoffed.

Olsen frowned. "No...I think it's something else. Listen."

They moved together as the trained unit they stood in the hallway flanking a closed door from which soft, grunting sounds and the scuffle of something moving could be heard. Olsen tried the door, turning the knob quietly, and pushed inward. Nothing.

Glancing at Johnson, he pulled it towards them, then reeled back from the fetid air that rushed out of what appeared to be a walk-in closet. What they saw inside was shocking.

+

Burt rushed to the hospital in his old pickup truck. Carole had his car today, as the brakes on hers was in the shop getting worked. As was the transmission. The tires needed to be replaced, too.

But that wasn't important right now. The phone call he'd gotten earlier was what he should have been concentrating on. Funny how the little things could be so distracting at times like these.

"He's not well," the police officer had said.

She hadn't said anything else, leaving Burt's imagination to run free. Kurt was still eight in his head, sick now, maybe dying. What the police and doctors told him when he got there turned out to be worse than even his overactive imagination could have ever dreamed up.

"Would you like to see him?" Officer Donnelly asked from across the little table where they sat.

Burt nodded. He couldn't speak past the lump lodged in his throat.

They went down the halls, past several rooms, only a few of the doors opened to reveal the patients within, then stopped. Donnelly turned to Burt.

"I know this is going to alarm you, but try to stay calm. For Kurt's sake."

When Kurt first started going to elementary school, the faculty there had set out to enter each and every child into a safety program in case they got lost or kidnapped. Kurt had come home that day with a small packet for Burt and his fingertips stained black with ink. Burt never thought the ID kit would really come in handy, but it had. Nine years too late.

The boy who sat on the bed was thin and covered in bruises, the most visible ones harsh fingerprints marring his arms in a sickly mixture of blacks, blues, greens, and yellows. Burt swallowed thickly and approached the bed.

Kurt, where he was in his head, didn't even notice his approach, just rocked on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest and made strange grunting sounds in the back of his throat.

'Self soothing,' the doctor called it.

All in all, considering what he'd been through, Kurt looked better than Burt thought he would. Sure, he was too skinny and his hair had been hacked off unevenly, but the doctors said they hadn't found any lasting damage, no major scars or mutilations to be found. But his mind...that was the most damaged part of all. The most scarred.

"Kurt," Burt called softly. "Kurt, it's me. It's your dad."

Kurt continued to rock. It was as he were deaf. When Burt put a hand on his shoulder, though, he flinched away. Burt jerked back. He didn't want to frighten Kurt, to make him think he was one of those men.

He took a moment, waiting for the trembling in his own hands to subside, before trying again. Kurt was stiff and unresponsive in his arms, that strange guttural noise muffled against Burt's chest. Burt kept one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other cradling the top of his head, pressing it his plaid shirt.

"It's all right. I'm here now."

Kurt was still rocking, never letting go of the death grip he had on his knees. Choking back tears, Burt finally let go and stepped away, arms already aching to hold his son again.

"I'm going to find a doctor, okay? Don't worry. I'll be right back."

Kurt flopped onto his side and curled into a ball, suddenly quiet. Burt hesitated at the door. He couldn't help Kurt, much as it killed him to admit, but he'd do his best to find someone who could.

+

Back in Lima, Finn stared at his mom. "You mean he's alive?"

"Of course, he's alive. What made you think he wasn't?"

"It's been ten years! Most kids...you know."

Carole sighed, sat in the chair next to Finn, and took his hand in hers. "Yeah, I know. And Kurt, well, Kurt knows, too. All too well."

Finn frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means he's hurt, confused. There were things done to him that he may never recover from."

"Really?" Finn looked horrified. "That's horrible. Is he going to okay living here? Shouldn't he, like, be in a hospital or something?"

"Your dad wants him to come home. I know it's going to be hard, but we'll all have to work together on this."

"Yeah. Sure. Anything to help."

The few times Burt had talked about his son, it was with a sense of sadness and longing. Finn might have known what it was like to lose a parent, but he hadn't actually known his father. Losing a child was probably ten times worse.

Except, Burt hadn't lost Kurt. Not for good, anyway. Kurt was alive and not-quite-well and coming home.

Any jealousy Finn might have felt about the situation, any fears of being replaced in Burt's affection, disappeared the moment his mother told him what to expect, how Burt described Kurt as being. Kurt was damaged. Finn couldn't hold on to anything but pity for him.

+

The doctors had warned him, but Burt wasn't prepared for the all-out war going on in front of him. Kurt kicked and screamed, his voice high and shrill, as two male nurses gripped his bruised arms to hold him sill as two more men came in to hold his legs down. At that, Kurt stopped, those strange, animalistic sounds still the only noise he made. With the jab of a needle, his body relaxed all the way into sleep.

"Sorry," one of the nurses said with an apologetic smile. "He gets like this sometimes."

Burt collapsed in a chair, his heart racing and his blood chilled, while the nurses began to bathe and reclothe Kurt like he was a child. Locked away, he hadn't had access to a bathroom. They could have put in a catheter but couldn't, or maybe didn't want to, keep him asleep all the time. Burt watched them silently, waiting for them to finish. The female nurse who had taken over the operation tucked Kurt in and ran a hand through his hair.

"He should be up in a few hours," she said to Burt. "Do you want to stay with him?"

Burt nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

He stayed by Kurt's bedside as the day passed slowly, afraid to touch him, until the staff forced him to leave. He would have stayed all night if they'd let him.

+

Kurt had chewed gashes into his arm while Burt was away. The doctors talked, but their words went right over Burt's head. Kurt was looking at him. There was no recognition in his haunted blue eyes, but he at least seemed to register that other people were in the room, people who weren't going to hurt him.

Carole came later in the day. Her eyes filled with tears the moment she entered the room.

"Hi," she said, coming to stand with Burt at Kurt's bedside. "I'm Carole. I'm your stepmom."

Kurt ignored her. He had gone back to his rocking.

"Oh, Burt." Carole turned and hid her face in her husband's neck. "The poor boy," she murmured. "That poor, poor boy."

+

Kurt was a wild thing. At home, he screamed and cried, hit things and people, and couldn't even say much beyond what he'd learned as a child. 'No' was a word that popped up frequently. Finn stopped bringing people home. Burt couldn't really blame him. It had to hard to have someone like Kurt around at his age.

Sometimes, Burt found Kurt tucked away into corners, in closets and cabinets. It was easier to just wait him out. Trying to force him was a nightmare.

Their saving grace, their lifeline through this whole things, was the nurse who came home with them from the hospital. Angie, the woman who had tucked Kurt in at night, had approached Burt near the end of Kurt's stay and asked what they would be doing about his care, then volunteered herself for the job. She stayed most of the day and left for her own home at night.

Kurt seemed to like her. He shrieked less when she was around.

He couldn't sleep at night, not without medication, so Angie slipped a pill into his warm milk before bedtime. Finn slept on the couch now, his large feet dangling off the end of the mattress and spare blankets thrown over him, just until the renovators got done with the room Burt was adding to the house for Kurt. Finn would get the basement back when it was done.

He was a trooper, Burt thought, not complaining once since Kurt had come home with them. Mostly, he seemed scared of the other boy. Scared that he'd hurt him, scared that Kurt would freak out on him. Kurt had already lashed out at him on more than one occasion, with so much fear of the world in him.

Burt couldn't help but check on both of them every night, just to make sure they were there, still at home, safe and sound. God help anyone who tried to change that.

+

Burt never thought he'd see love at first sight, but Kurt was definitely in love. They couldn't pry the boots from his hands without a major blowup, so Burt and Carole left him sitting on the floor clutching them to his chest while they went to the register with an identical pair to scan. The damn things cost almost two hundred dollars. Burt grimaced as he swiped his bank card. Kurt couldn't even tie his shoelaces. What was he going to do with boots that laced all the way up to his knees?

+

The next time Burt and Finn sat down to watch a game together, Kurt hovered near the couch watching them. Burt smiled at him and draped one arm across the back cushion in invitation. He could see Kurt battling against indecision and fear. Not calling attention to it seemed to work the best, so Burt turned back to the TV and waited. A few seconds later, he felt the spot beside him dip down with the pressure of slight weight dropping onto it.

Burt glanced sideways to see Kurt curling his knees up to his chest. He stared at the screen but his eyes flickered over it as if he didn't really understand what, exactly, he was watching. With a sinking heart, Burt realized he probably didn't. So he started explaining the basics of baseball and rattling off various players' statistics. It was still nonsense to Kurt, but Burt figured talking couldn't hurt. It might even help if Kurt heard a calm and steady voice that he didn't feel pressured to respond to.

Finn glanced between Kurt and the TV, no doubt expecting the other boy to erupt in a fit of anger and frustration any second now, but Kurt just sat there. After a while, he leaned into Burt's side. Burt smiled, pulling him closer.

The touch on Burt's knee was light and barely noticeable, so it took him a moment to realize why it was there-and where it was headed.

"Whoa!" Burt leaped to his feet, hands held up as if he'd been the one doing the inappropriate touching.

Kurt tumbled off the couch with an 'oof' and flinched away, drawing his knees up to his chest and freezing.

"What is going on?" Carole came in from the kitchen and took in the scene before her. Everyone in the room was frozen, from Kurt curled up on the floor to Finn staring at his step-brother with wide, nervous eyes. "Burt?"

Kurt struck out. His booted foot hit Burt's shin, causing him to yelp and jump out of the way. At the first frustrated cry, as Carole moved from Burt to Kurt, Finn fled the room. The basement was quiet, but even so...after a few minutes, he had to grab a pillow to cover his ears.


	2. Rachel Meets Kurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Rachel bond over show tunes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 8-6-2015

The family had fallen into its own routine by the time Finn started to bring Rachel back around. Angie would come by in the morning to get Kurt up and running while everyone else prepared for work or school. They stayed at home for the rest of the day, watching soaps. Kurt wasn't very particular about what was playing; he just liked to watch TV.

Burt called at least three times a day to check on them, getting a ruefully amused Angie on the phone. She assured him each time that Kurt was alive and well and let him know if he was having a good day. Carole waited until her lunch hour to call, though. She and Angie talked about more mundane things, shared some girl talk, and skirted around the issue of Kurt's mental health, for Carole's sake.

Rachel managed to corner Finn in the hallway at school between classes.

"So," she said. "I've picked out a song for the competition that fits our voices perfectly." She hesitated and clutched her notebook closer. "I thought we could go to your house to practice."

Finn stared at her.

"I know," Rachel hastened to say. "I know you're worried about your new brother. But I really want to meet him. Who knows, he might be a Broadway fan."

"I doubt it," Finn muttered.

Rachel's strained smile brightened. "Great! I'll come over after school. The others won't stand a chance against us."

She turned, skirt swishing around her knees, and rushed away before Finn could protest. He sighed, leaning against the bank of lockers behind him. This could wind up being a great disaster. Rachel was so pushy, sometimes. Kurt would freak if she didn't get the hint to back off. Finn still had trouble getting the hint and Kurt had been home for two months now.

What if the other guys at school found out about Kurt? Rachel sucked at keeping secrets. If she met him, she'd tell everybody else in Glee, and the news of Finn's crazy brother would be all over the school in a week's time, if that. He really didn't want to deal with the rumors.

Finn would have to keep them apart. And lock his bedroom door. He had his own room back, but Kurt still liked to hang out there, staring at Finn. It was kind of creepy. Like a schoolgirl with a crush or something. That was stupid, though. Kurt was a guy. Guys didn't have crushes on other guys.

Did they?

+

Rachel stood on the Hummel doorstep with a nervous smile on her face and a homemade vegan dish in her hands.

“Hi.” Finn couldn’t help his dopey little grin. Rachel was just too cute in her plaid, belted coat and little French hat.

“I brought a casserole with me. I hope your parents won’t mind.”

“It’s cool. I think Mom’s making fish sticks tonight, anyway. Or maybe sandwiches.”

“Well. It’s good that I brought something, then.” She glanced around him. “Can I come in?”

Finn jumped out of her way. “Yeah. Sorry.’

“I’ll just put this in the kitchen.”

“Don’t do that.” He snagged Rachel by the arm and pulled her towards his bedroom, making her stumble. 

“What do you mean, no? I can’t leave it out.”

Finn let go of her reluctantly and they headed for the kitchen together, Rachel leading the way. She stopped short once through the door. Finn’s forward momentum jostled her smaller body forward. The few steps she took forward to compensate moved her closer to the table where Kurt sat in his shapeless sweats and knee-high boots. An elementary school reader lay open in front of him.

“Oh!” Rachel tried to pull herself together under Kurt’s intense stare. She didn’t even notice the older woman sitting across the table. “You must be Kurt. My name is Rachel Berry. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Finn said to Angie.

Kurt was staring at him again, at how his hands rested on Rachel’s shoulders. Finn tightened his grip.

“You’re hurting me,” Rachel murmured.

“Sorry!” He forced his muscles to relax, though he still felt tense inside.

Angie stood up from the table. “Hello, Rachel. Would you like me to put that away for you?”

“That’s Angie,” Finn said. “She’s been helping with Kurt.”

Rachel handed the dish over and glanced at Kurt, who’d remained silent through the introductions. Finn didn’t know whether or not this was a good thing. He was just grateful that Kurt wasn’t embarrassing him right now.

“We should get downstairs. Not much time for us to rehearse before my parents get home.”

“Right. Hey, Angie, Kurt.”

When they stepped out of the kitchen and back into the living room, Rachel clutched at Finn’s hand and exhaled. “That wasn’t so bad. Do you think he likes me?”

Finn shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s kind of hard to tell.”

“Yes. I can see why.”

They couldn’t get to the basement fast enough. Both of them felt uneasy now. Kurt had that affect on people.

“So what song did you pick?” Finn asked lightly in an attempt to put his girlfriend at ease.

Rachel grasped at the change of topic. “ ‘Somewhere Out There,’ from the movie An American Tail. I know it’s a kid’s movie, but the song is lovely and-”

“Rach. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You’re right. I guess I’m just still a little anxious.”

“Don’t be.” Finn leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “You’re perfect.”

+

Back in the kitchen, Angie watched Kurt carefully. She’d been trying to teach him to read before Finn came home, but his concentration was shot now. He stared at the door to the living room with a frown.

“Kurt? Finn’s probably going to be awhile. Do you want to watch TV?”

Kurt slid out of his seat and, instead of taking his usual place on the couch like Angie thought he would, continued past it to the basement door, where he rattled the knob in both hands. When the door failed to open, he began to tug on it, a whine building in his throat.

Angie hurried across the room, trying to reach him before a meltdown came, but she needn’t have worried. Kurt stopped and stared at the door, then sank down to the floor in front of it. Angie could hear a girl’s voice singing, Finn occasionally joining it.

Kurt sat transfixed, eyes wide and hands limp where they still clung to the doorknob. Angie let him stay there until Carole came home. He’d fallen asleep by then, listening to Finn and Rachel’s voices, but he sat up when Carole shut the front door behind her.

“Come on.” Angie helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” Kurt mumbled like a cross child, blinking sleepily.

The two women exchanged glances.

“Why don’t we watch TV, then? I think General Hospital is on.” Angie steered him towards the couch while Carole went to fetch a blanket from the closet.

They got Kurt situated on the couch and covered him with the blanket. By the time the first commercial came around, his eyes were drooping back closed. Carole carded her fingers through his hair and he sighed.

When she was certain he was asleep, Angie unzipped his boots and set them aside.

+

At the table, Kurt refused to use silverware, so finger foods had been on the menu since he’d moved in. Angie worked with him on the weekdays while the house was empty but hadn’t been able to get him to do more than drink from a glass without making a mess.

Rachel looked horrified at how he shoveled food into his mouth and at his absolute lack of table manners. Angie took the time between mouthfuls to wipe crumbs off Kurt’s mouth. He barely noticed her mothering, so intent he was on eating.

Burt had told Finn the reason Kurt ate like that was because he’d been starving before. Really starving, kind of like those kids Finn and Puck used to see on TV when they stayed up late to watch monster movies together. Kurt never got breakfast, lunch, or dinner before now. No bedtime snacks or small pick-me-ups when tired. He had to have had something thrown to him every now and then or else he’d have died, though. Which was horrible. Finn couldn’t imagine going more than a few hours, much less days, without something to eat.

He was glad those people were dead, even if he wasn‘t supposed to be.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make anything special for you,” Carole suddenly said.

Rachel smiled at her. “I should have let you know I was coming.”

Burt cleared his throat. “So what are you guys doing now that the musical’s over? You got, what, Sectionals coming up?”

“Yes, but it’s still a couple of months away. We’re having another duets competition right now.” Rachel put a hand on top of Finn’s and squeezed lightly. “The winners-which will of course be us-get gift certificates to Breadsticks, like last year.”

“Only this time we’re not going to throw the competition,” Finn said.

“You threw the competition?” Burt asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

A glass suddenly flew through the air and smacked Rachel square in the forehead, covering her in puddles of water.

“Kurt,” Carole gasped, horrified.

Finn took one look at Kurt’s darkening expression and hauled Rachel from her chair. They were almost to the door when he heard the smack of skin hitting skin. Kurt was sitting between Burt and Angie, so either of them could have been his target, but Finn didn’t look to check, just steered Rachel towards the bathroom down the hall.

She jumped at the loud scream and looked nervously towards the other room. A bruising lump was already forming on her forehead. 

“Do you feel okay?” Finn asked. “Should I take you to the hospital? Do you want some aspirin?”

“Aspirin would be nice, thank you.”

There were more sounds of Kurt in a full-blown fit coming from the kitchen. Rachel kept her head turned to listen, absent-mindedly tossing the pills Finn gave her into her mouth and swallowing them down with a glass of water.

“He has a really high range for a guy,” she said after handing the glass back. “Does he sing?”

“Sing? Rachel, he barely talks.”

Rachel drew her shoulders up. “Well, you know what they say. Music soothes the savage beast.”

"Huh?"

"Angie said he likes my singing. I mean, who wouldn't?"

"Yeah, but-"

She lay a hand on his arm. "Finn. Let me try."

Finn eyed her uncertainly but finally nodded. "Okay. Fine. But you're getting out of there the minute he starts up again."

Rachel smoothed her bangs down and straightened her clothes before going back to the kitchen. The table was a mess. It sat a few inches over from where it had been and food was scattered on the floor. Burt had both of Kurt’s wrists in his hands as he tried to pull free with frantic determination. At least he’d stopped screaming, though now he was just making those weird noises again.

Kurt froze as Rachel opened her mouth to sing the song they’d been rehearsing earlier. He listened quietly through the whole thing and, when she finished, said, “Again.”

When all he got was shocked silence in return, he kicked at Burt’s leg and repeated himself.

Rachel launched into a Broadway love song and Kurt listened, enraptured with the music. Burt carefully let him go. He sunk to the ground, pulling his knees back up to his chest, and watched her. It was like he’d been drugged. Finn had never seen him so calm.

After an hour, Kurt saying ‘again’ after each song, she eventually had to stop. Finn hurried with her to the door before Kurt could react.

“Thanks,” he said. “Sorry about your head.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be able to sing without any complications, that’s what’s most important.”

“...I’m not sure that’s what’s most important.”

The two of them spent a few minutes snuggling on the front porch until his mom began flashing the outside light on and off. Finn sighed and stepped away.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Rachel asked.

“Yeah.”

The house was strangely quiet after all the ruckus from earlier. Finn found Carole in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess Kurt had made.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Everything's fine, honey. Burt grabbed the radio from our room. He and Kurt are listening to it upstairs."

Finn moved to help her move the table back. "So he really likes music, huh?"

"Looks like it. What's that saying...?"

"Music moves the cabbage beast. What's a cabbage beast?"

Carole cleared her throat in her hands to hide a laugh. "Why don't you help me finish up here? I think I'm going to need a nap after this. I'm exhausted."

+

Upstairs in their bedroom, after the boys were put down for the night, Burt sank onto the bed with a groan, regretting the day he ever bought his son those boots. His legs were killing him. Kurt had some real power behind those skinny legs of his and he kicked whenever he got angry or sad or scared. Or frustrated or, hell, even hungry.

He was getting better, though. Burt had left the radio in Kurt’s room on one of the oldies stations and he seemed to like that. Burt would have to mention this to the doctor next visit. Maybe something like music therapy would help.

Carole winced when she came out of the bathroom and saw his legs. "Ouch. That cannot be good, are you okay?”

Burt groaned, settling back against the pillows. “I’m fine. A few bruises aren’t going to hurt me.”

Carole got into bed carefully, afraid to jostle the mattress, and kept to her side of the bed when she lay down, though she eventually rolled over in her sleep to snuggle up against Burt’s side. He pulled her to him, relishing the closeness.


	3. When Brittany Meets Kurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brittany meets Kurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited: 8-20-2015

Finn was having a great dream about Rachel kissing him, her hands traveling down the planes of his chest and the juncture between groin and thigh. He liked this dream. Moaning, Finn placed a hand on the small of Rachel's back and slid it up to tangle in her long, dark...her long, dark...hair?

Finn snapped open his eyes to find Kurt hovering over him, lips still brushing against his. Finn pushed him away with a cry and scrambled to the other side of his bed.

"Dude, that was not cool." He could still taste Kurt's mouth on his. "I'm going to be sick."

Finn vaulted over where Kurt had fallen to the floor on his way to the bathroom, where he locked the door behind him and fumbled for the mouthwash. He'd been so stupid to leave his bedroom door unlocked. But he didn't think he'd get molested in his sleep!

Mouthwash! He needed more mouthwash!

By the time he’d thoroughly brushed, rinsed, gargled, and flossed, Kurt was gone. He made sure to lock his door this time before climbing back into bed, but he still couldn't sleep.

+

Burt sat up with a jolt and fumbled for the light, feeling Carole stir beside him. Kurt knelt at the foot of their bed, tears in his eyes and sniffling miserably.

Carole stared at him. "Kurt?"

"Hey, buddy," Burt said. "What's wrong?"

He'd expected Kurt to yell or hit out some kind of frustration, but he just moved to the pillows and pulled back the top blanket to climb under them. He lay curled up facing Burt, his face buried in the rough fabric of his pajama top, making small, muffled sounds which sounded like crying.

Burt reached out to touch him, hesitant to start a new round of inappropriate hands. Carole glanced at them, then put her own hand on Kurt's back and began to rub lightly. He wriggled his body closer to Burt and the older man tensed, still wary, but Kurt stopped an inch or two from Burt's chest, not quite making contact.

This was the closest Kurt had been to him without being either angry or, well, sexual. Burt wanted to wrap him up in his arms like he had when Kurt was a small child but was afraid to risk it, instead settling for putting a hand to shoulder. He hoped it gave the comfort a hug could, even just a little.

Kurt was gone in the morning. It was a Saturday, so both boys would be home. Burt planned to stay at the shop only until noon so that he and Carole could take Kurt to get some real clothes. He'd been slumping around the house in oversized sweats and his boot for far too long.

Carole found him in the kitchen, sitting underneath the table. Drawing attention to it probably wouldn't be such a good idea, so she simply walked past him.

"Good morning," Carole said as she headed for the fridge. "I'm going to make some eggs if you're hungry. Would you like that?"

"No," Kurt said.

Carole paused to look at him. He was picking listlessly at his socked feet, avoiding eye contact.

"What would you like, then? I can make pancakes."

"No."

"Okay. How about-"

Finn came into the room, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, and Kurt shot out from underneath the table out the sight of him. He pushed Finn, then dashed from the room. Carole could hear his feet thudding on the stairs moments later, marking his progress across the floor.

"What was that?"

Finn's nose scrunched up. "How should I know?"

"Uh huh." Something was up with those two. She'd know that weird look on her son's face any day.

"Can I go over to Rachel's? I promised her we'd practice our duet some more. You know how much she wants to win."

"Sure," Carole drawled. The Berrys would be home, so it would be okay. "You go have fun."

She sat in the kitchen for a few moments after he left, tapping her fingers on the tabletop as she thought about the two boys. Finn obviously wasn't going to talk about it anytime soon. Could she possibly get Kurt to?

He was in his room when she checked, curled up in bed listening to the radio and gnawing at his arm.

"Stop that." She gently removed his arm from his mouth, taking note of the tiny bite marks there, and sat beside him. "You want to tell me what happened between you and Finn?"

"No."

"It might help. Mothers are great listeners, you know."

"Not my mother," Kurt muttered.

Carole was so surprised he'd answered with something other than another 'no' that it took her a minute to respond. "Well, I'm your step-mother. That has to count for something."

Kurt sat up and inched closer, leaning towards her ear to speak.

The words he said, spoken in such a sweet, high voice, were vulgar enough to make Carole blush.

The hand he put on her thigh, heading steadily upwards, didn't help. She leapt off the bed.

"Ohhhh-kay. I think I see the problem here." No wonder Finn was so jumpy lately. Kurt must have put the moves on him. She and Burt were going to have to have a long talk with Kurt's doctor about this. A really long talk.

+

Angie was off on the weekends and Finn was at Rachel's, so it was just Burt, Carole, and Kurt for the day. Carole had been counting on Finn's feedback so that Kurt wouldn't get clothed from head to toe in flannel like Burt was most likely to pick out, but Finn was obsessed with puffy vests himself, so it was probably best he hadn't come along.

Small stores, like the ones they'd bought those boots in, worked best for Kurt’s unstable temperament. There were usually less people there, which meant less stress. The consignment shop had rows of round, metal racks along the store, filled with all kinds of clothes.

Burt grimaced. "Okay. I'm lost here. You want to take this?"

Carole snagged Kurt’s arm and went trolling down the aisles with him. He seemed to like looking at all the different clothes, feeling the fabrics in his hands, but she had to keep pointing out the boys clothes from the girls. Kurt scowled each time she did, told her no, and thrust the item, usually a shirt, at her.

"Kurt," she said as they were flipping through the jeans rack. "Do you know where your mother is?"

He shrugged.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

Kurt's hand tightened on the hanger. He scowled, blinked at the jeans in front of them, then pulled one violently off the rack and threw it to the ground, leaving the others to swing wildly in its wake.

Carole put it back with a sigh. No one knew what had happened to Kurt's mother, if she'd left him with those drug dealers voluntarily or not, and Kurt wouldn't talk about it. He didn't have a large vocabulary, but she had the feeling he could get his point across if he really did want to try.

He and Burt were standing by a wall of scarves when she caught up with them. Burt took the large pile of clothes from her aching arms. All that fabric got heavy after a while.

Kurt took a scarf from the wall, thrust it at Burt, and shook it at him.

Burt gave it a skeptical look. "That's a little thin for winter, ain't it?"

Kurt turned and waved it under Carole's nose. "Mother."

"Oh, that's really sweet, Kurt, but I have plenty of scarves at home."

He huffed, clearly irritated at their stupidity, then wrapped the scarf around his own neck, kicked Burt in the shin, and walked away.

Carole patted Burt's arm as he rubbed at his leg. "Let's give him a few minutes to calm himself down. I asked about his mom, so he's probably a little upset right now."

"Did he say where she’s at?" Burt asked.

"Not a word."

"I just wished I knew what happened."

"I know. We all do."

They watched Kurt disappear down one of the aisles.

+

Kurt remembered running around stores like these when he was little but, like with all his memories, it was vague and shapeless. A flicker in his brain that barely registered, so he put it away and ignored it.

Somewhere in the middle of the t-shirt section, a blonde girl popped out from behind a rack and hissed at him.

"Hey! Hey."

Kurt looked at her curiously but stayed where he was, letting her come to him. She stopped to peer at him when she got closer, studying his face like she was searching for something. 

"Are you a unicorn?"

+

They'd let him walk away for ten minutes-ten minutes!-and already Kurt was lost, possibly hiding. They were getting ready to call the police when Carole heard a vaguely familiar voice coming from under a rack of skirts.

"-can come on my show, Fondue for Two," a girl was saying. "You don't have to talk. My cat's epileptic. That means he can read your mind and tell me what you're saying."

Carole looked down through the circle of the rack just in time to see Kurt lean forward and kiss a girl firmly on the lips. A kiss like that had to involve tongue.

"Oh, god." She dove through the racks and yanked Kurt out. He kicked at her and grumbled unhappily. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry."

Brittany Pearce stepped out from under the rack and waved. "Hi, Mrs. Hudson."

She never had picked up on the name change.

Carole let go of Kurt's arm as Burt hurried over to haul him out the store's front door before the upcoming tantrum hit.

"I'm sorry about that, Brittany. Kurt doesn't know any better."

Brittany shrugged. "He's a really good kisser."

Carole winced at Kurt's first scream, audible from the parking lot. "I'd better go pay for this."

"Tell Kurt I like his singing."

The clerk at the register looked torn between having a heart attack or calling the police. Burt's struggle to keep Kurt contained was visible through the front window. Carole poked him with a credit card.

"I'm sorry about my son. If you'll ring me up now, we'll get out of your hair."

The clerk looked at her, then back at the window. "I don't know how much that scarf is."

"You really want to go out there and check?"

"Five dollars sounds good."

The scarf, Carole later found out, was worth fifty dollars, over a hundred had it been from the designer's actual store. Burt looked exhausted by the time they got home. He sent Kurt to his room and went upstairs himself to take a nap.

Though she worried about his heart, Carole decided to sit down, have a cup of coffee, and wait for Finn to come home while her own heart slowed down to its normal beat.

+

"No," Kurt wailed later that afternoon. He had the leg of a pair of skinny jeans clutched to his chest while Burt tugged on the other and slowly pulled Kurt towards the edge of the bed.

"Come on, kiddo," Burt said, chuckling. "These don't fit right. I might want grandkids someday, you know."

Kurt tumbled off the edge of the bed, rolled over onto his back, and actually giggled. Giggled!

"No."

"You'd better just give up," Carole said. "I don't think he's going to let go."

Burt looked down at Kurt and knew it was a lost cause. How could he say no to that happy face? When Burt dropped his end of the pants, Kurt jumped up, ran to the other clothes Burt had deemed either too tight or too girly, and yelled out another 'no' before flopping facedown on top of them.

Grinning, Burt approached him carefully. He hadn't played with a kid like this in years. He and Kurt used to have tickle fights when he was small. There was a spot on his side that, if tickled just right...

He ran his fingers under Kurt's ribs and got a burst of bright laughter in response, laughter he hadn't heard in ten years. It sounded like music to his ears. Kurt sat up and, still with a happy grin on his face, grabbed at Burt's belt buckle. Burt moved his hand away, immediately sobered.

"You shouldn't do things like that."

Kurt stared at him, confused, and his smile faded, replaced with a frown as his eyes searched his father's face imploringly. "But-"

Burt, felt helpless struggled to speak. What could he do to help?

"You'll like it," Kurt whispered. His hand went back to Burt's waist, only to be blocked again.

"I'd like a hug. Can I have a hug?"

Kurt still looked confused, so Burt shifted over until they were sitting side by side and put a hand on Kurt's side to maneuver him closer. The muscles underneath his hand were taut, Kurt's body stiff and unresponsive. The moment his head hit Burt's shoulder, he pulled away and stood, walking straight out of the room without a word. Burt stared after him.

For the rest of day, every time either Burt or Carole got near him, Kurt would turn around and walk out of reach. He didn't have to worry about Finn, though. When the other boy got home, he headed straight for his room, not even stopping to say hi to his mother.


	4. School Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hummels get some bad news and Finn's feeling a bit resentful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited: 8-23-2015

Finn went to school paranoid that people were watching him and laughing at him behind his back. But that wasn't McKinley's style. If people were going to laugh at him, they wouldn't do it behind his back. They’d do it to his face and throw an ice-cold Slushie at him for good measure.

All his worrying, though, turned out to be for nothing. Rachel told everyone Finn had hit her.

"Not on purpose," she hastened to add. "You know how Finn is when he dances. I think we all remember the Barbra 'vention of last year."

"Are you going to get a fore-job?" Brittany asked.

Rachel gaped at her. "I'm sorry, a what?"

"You know, where they reshape your forehead? It'll look super hot."

"I agree," Santana said. "You could use a facelift, too-and that nose job. Let’s not forget the nose job."

Rachel's hand flew up to her face as Finn stood to defend her.

"Leave Rachel alone, you guys. So she has a big nose and a bruise on her forehead. It'll clear up in a couple of weeks and she'll look just fine. Well, not the nose, because that's, like, part of her face, but-"

"Please stop talking," Rachel begged him quietly.

Mr. Schue finally stepped in. "We should get started. Finn? Rachel? Why don't you go first?"

Santana made a scoffing noise.

"Thank you, Mr. Schue." Rachel smiled at him gratefully.

They were halfway through their song when a flash of flannel caught Finn's eye, followed immediately by his mother walking by the closed choir room door. Kurt, trailing behind her, glanced into the window as he passed.

Finn's voice trailed off and Rachel tried to soldier on alone, though her voice faltered a few noticeable seconds between notes. She gave Finn a desperate look, but he was already headed to the door.

"Mom?"

Kurt took one look at him and zipped to Burt's side, almost burying himself behind his arm.

Carole turned and smiled, clearly surprised. "Finn, honey, aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Yeah, but-what are you guys doing here?"

"We're going to see about enrolling Kurt in school." Burt moved to wrap his arm around Kurt's shoulder. Kurt immediately stepped away from him.

"My school?" Finn asked, appalled. Kurt couldn't come to his school. He'd drag Finn's popularity down like a sinking stone. "He can't even read. How's he going to do the work?"

Burt's eyes narrowed. "It's just for an hour or two. That a problem?"

"Finn?" Rachel stepped into the hallway. "What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Kurt's going to enroll here." Finn felt numb, in denial. The football team was winning this year. and he'd still have to work hard to stay at the top of the social food chain, now that Kurt was here.

Rachel hesitated at how unhappy Finn was at this new turn of events. "That's nice. Maybe...maybe he'd like to visit the Glee Club sometime. Wouldn't that be fun, Kurt?"

Kurt frowned at her. "That's not cool."

"He sounds like he goes here already," Rachel joked.

Finn stared at Kurt, looking as if he'd just swallowed a lemon whole.

"Guys," Mr. Schue called from the door. "Everything all right out here?"

"Everything's fine," Finn said. He turned to Rachel and held out his hand. "We should probably go finish our song."

"We really should." Rachel smiled at the Hummels. "It's nice to see you again."

Finn's hand tightened on hers and he tugged her back into the room, his face set in a deep frown.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, leaning in closer to whisper.

"Yeah, sure," Finn lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just don't look very happy about Kurt-"

"Look, Rachel." Finn stopped so they could talk away from the rest of the group. "Kurt's coming to school. It doesn't matter what I think about it."

"Of course it matters, Finn. Did you talk to Mr. Hummel about this?"

"Rachel! Stop. It's fine. Can we just sing?"

"Okay." Rachel nodded, watching Finn with a worried frown as they took their places by the piano.

+

He'd seen the pictures the police and hospital personnel had taken immediately after Kurt had been found. The boy in those photos looked haunted. Filthy. Starved. He'd been scrubbed clean at the hospital, of course, but after nearly three weeks at home, with Kurt refusing to bathe, Burt had been forced to take matters into his own hands.

While the scene in the hospital had been a battlefield, shoving Kurt into the shower had been a nightmare. By the time Burt had managed to scrub him clean with quick, cursory swipes of a loofah, they were both wet and crying. Soaking wet, like drowned rats. Kurt's body was limp by then, making him easy to wrap in a big, fluffy towel and then a bathrobe after Burt had dried him off.

Burt's legs gained whole new set of bruises that day, along with scratches and bite marks along his arms.

Carole waited for them downstairs afterwards with mugs of hot chocolate, her hands shaking as she set on down in front of Kurt, who, instead of waiting like she'd warned him to, immediately dunked his fingers in it to grab at the marshmallows. The pain of his scalded hands had set off a new round of frantic crying.

So far, that had been the worst day out of all the days of Kurt's homecoming. He was better now, so much better, but he still had his days.

Kurt's doctor, though only guessing, as Kurt still refused to talk about it, said that he'd most likely had a traumatic experience with a shower. Burt really didn't know, but he suspected Kurt had been shoved under scalding hot water at some point, from his reaction to anything over lukewarm. Baths worked better. He could test the water out before getting in, one hesitant limb at a time.

"Ra ra, ra ra ra..."

Burt glanced back to where Kurt sat in the bathtub singing to himself and scrubbing at a spot on his leg. There probably wasn't even anything there to scrub away. Burt reached down and laid a hand over Kurt's.

"Dirt is bad; skin is good. Remember?"

Kurt barely acknowledged his words, just grumbled something back and switched to a new spot on the opposite leg.

They brushed their teeth together, got into pajamas, and set Kurt's things out for in the morning. He was starting school tomorrow. If all went well, he'd get integrated with the rest of the classes after a few weeks and attend for the whole day, though he'd still have to take remedial classes.

As Kurt sat waiting in his bathrobe, Carole knocked on the door and called Burt's name. She handed over the phone when he opened the door. "It's someone from the hospital."

Kurt followed them out into the hallway, but when the two split up, Burt headed towards the living room and Carole, their bedroom, he froze, looking between them indecisively. Eventually, Carole noticed and took pity on him, steering him along with her. He went placidly, though he pulled away from her touch after only a few steps.

In the bedroom, Carole sat in front of the vanity Burt had refurbished for her as a wedding gift and patted a spot on the bed next to it. "Big day tomorrow. You'll want to look nice."

Kurt came to sit eagerly where she indicated. She'd found him hovering over her vanity one day, staring, fascinated, at all the little bottles on it. Now, she made sure to pick up things that teenage boys would need while she was at the supermarket, things like acne cream and cologne. Kurt's skin, though still pale, looked healthy and clear now, nearly spotless except for a light dotting of freckles across his nose.

The travel case Carole pulled out from under the table held a matching set of tools and creams just for him, along with an extra mirror attached to the inner lid. Halfway through their weekly routine, Burt came into the room. Carole's heart dropped at the expression on his face.

"Burt, what happened?"

He sat on the bed beside Kurt, who began to inch away. Carole thought Angie's death would be a bigger blow, that they'd have another Shower-level Incident to deal with, but Kurt merely blinked, swung a foot back and forth, and fingered the collar of his bathrobe, as if he were wearing one of those scarves he loved so much.

When he finished talking, Burt put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, which was quickly swatted away.

"You going to be okay, kiddo?"

Kurt shrugged and bumped Burt's leg with a swinging foot. He looked untroubled by the news. Uninterested, even. The hand at his neck tightened, then relaxed, a strange spasm.

"Kurt?" Burt tried to get him to look up, but those blue eyes eluded him.

Abruptly, Kurt stood and walked out of the room, a hand still resting at his neck. Burt made as if to follow him, but Carole put a hand on his knee before he could stand.

"He might need to be alone right now."

"I hate leaving him alone," Burt sighed.

She didn't want to leave Kurt alone, either, but it would have only agitated him if they smothered him. And to Kurt, a mere hand on the shoulder could be suffocating.

"I'll have to take time off work," Carole said. "He can't stay here by himself."

"But-"

"No, Burt. He's my son now, too. You'd do the same for Finn, I know you would."

+

That night, Kurt’s body was wound tight, pressure building behind his bones, pressing his muscles, making him hurt. There was no relief from this feeling, not here. No one wanted as much as he wanted.

+

Finn woke up to find the rest of the family gathered in the kitchen. Kurt was sitting at the table dressed in skin tight pants and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, the collar opened just enough to reveal the dip of skin joining his neck to collarbone. His favorite boots, the knee-high ones that laced up (the ones that were going to get his butt kicked) were on his feet and a navy blue backpack sat by his chair.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Carole said when she saw Finn enter the room. "Hurry up and eat your breakfast. We'll take you both in today."

"Together?" He sat down at the table.

As soon as he did, Kurt got up and walked away. Finn didn't know if it was the boots or what, but he could have sworn the other boy swayed a bit as he walked. Carole grabbed the abandoned bowl of cereal and hurried after him, determined to get Kurt's day started properly.

That left just Finn and Burt, alone, in the kitchen.

Finn gulped at the look Burt gave him, expecting to get scolded or yelled at for being selfish, but all Burt did was sigh and say, "I know this is hard, but he's your brother now. Could you look after him? Make sure he doesn't get hurt?"

"Yeah." Finn stared at the tabletop, unable to look at Burt's imploring eyes any longer. He'd do it, of course, despite the hit it would cause to his reputation. They were all family, now.

Kurt gave Finn a wary look once in the car, either back they were seated in the back together or because he didn't like this new development, how it changed his daily routine. No one had told Finn how yesterday went, so it could have been either one.

Finn got out of the car as soon as it stopped and didn't bother waiting. Burt and Carole were busy trying to coax Kurt out. They'd be fine. Burt could handle anything Kurt threw at him. The man was like a rock. A big, flannel-wearing rock.

Rachel met him at his locker, looking around as if expecting someone else to join them. Finn followed her gaze, confused.

"What's up?" he asked.

Rachel's shoulders sagged. "Kurt didn't come?"

"Yeah, he did. I guess Mom and Burt are taking him to class now."

"Oh."

"Why do you care so much anyway?"

"I thought maybe I would be able to find a kindred spirit, someone who shared my love of theater."

"And you thought it'd be Kurt?"

"Well, I had hoped my impromptu performance the other day would win him over."

They parted at their lockers with a short kiss, totally G-rated for school hallways. Kurt's first shrill wail filled the halls somewhere between second and third period. Finn ducked down in his seat as the rest of his classmates were jerked out of their history-induced stupors.

"What the hell?" Azimio drawled. "We got a tornado drill today?"

They all sat frozen for a moment, waiting for another shoe to drop, but only silence followed after.

+

The classroom was small, with a few desks and two computers set off to the side. There weren't a lot of other students, either, though Burt did recognize at least two of them by their blonde hair and cheerleader outfits.

Brittany's face brightened when she saw them, and she waved from her seat in the back corner of the room. Carole eyed her nervously as Kurt headed in her direction while Burt went to talk with Mrs. Slater, the woman who would be looking after Kurt. She'd been told beforehand what to expect, but he still wanted to go over everything with her one last time before they left.

Carole wandered over to where Kurt and Brittany were and found the girl chatting brightly at a silent Kurt, whose fingers worked the soft edges of the thick brown scarf he'd thrown on earlier, eyebrows furrowed slightly as if in thought. Carole wondered what was going through his mind. She knew he liked Brittany, she'd seen that flash of pleasure in his eyes. Hopefully, there wouldn't be another incident like at the store. He didn't really need to be kicked out of school on his first day. Or any day, really.

All the signs of a major blowup started to grow on Kurt's face the moment he realized the two of them were going to be parted.

"I'll keep an eye on them," Mrs. Slater reassured them. She'd been warned about Kurt's wandering hands.

Burt gathered Kurt up in his arms and kissed him on the cheek but had to step quickly back when the slim body jerked violently at his touch. It was almost like dropping a small kid off on their very first day of kindergarten, Carole thought. Burt was teary-eyed and Kurt looked a little baffled, but there were no fireworks, no hysterics, as Burt left him behind.

In the hall, after the door had closed, Burt wiped at his eyes. Hummel men didn't cry but he was damn close. It didn't feel right, just leaving Kurt there, even if this was for his own good. He had to fight the urge to charge back in there, snatch his kid up, and make a run for it.

'This will be good for him,' Burt repeated to himself. 'It's for his own good.'

They passed Finn seated in one of his classes on the way out. He looked up and gave them a small wave and a smile. Carole felt guilty as the satisfaction of knowing that he was okay rushed over her. The fact that what happened to Kurt could-and did-happen to any child kept her up late at night sometimes, and she couldn't help but feel grateful that it hadn't been her own who had been the one to suffer. It was a secret she could never share.


	5. Chapter 5

Brittany insisted on drawing rainbows and unicorns on her homework assignments until Mrs. Slater came over to give her a stern look.

"Brittany, we've talked about this."

"But I don't get it." She held out her paper to the teacher, who sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

"Why don't you put your name on there first?"

"Okay...how do I spell that?"

Sue Sylvester burst into the room in her usual, grand fashion. "Becky, Brittany," she barked. "What are you two still doing here in this cesspool of education when I specifically told you to be at the gym today?"

"Sorry, Coach." Becky slid out of her seat and headed for the door as Brittany gathered her things to leave.

"Hold up." Mrs. Slater held up a hand to stop them. "Both of you sit down."

"Bite me, Mrs. Slater," Becky said as she went out the door.

"Sorry." Brittany smiled apologetically and stood to leave, but Kurt latched onto her arm.

"No."

Mrs. Slater hurried to his side. "Kurt, you're going to have to let go of Brittany now."

"No."

"That's okay," Brittany said. "He can come with me, I don't mind."

"No, he can't go with you, Brittany, he-"

Kurt took a deep breath, then let it out in a long scream. His grip on Brittany's arm tightened, making her wince.

"Aw, let the little moppet come," Coach Sylvester interrupted. "I can use his impressive vocal strength to scare away the bugs and small rodents hiding under the bleachers."

Ignoring their teacher's protests, the left the room arm in arm. Once in the gym, Sue pointed at a spot on the bleachers.

"Park your keester right there, Ladyface, and don't even think about moving it, not even if the pope himself tells you to. Got it?"

Kurt shrugged.

"Good. Glad we understand each other."

She turned her attention to the cheerleaders who were waiting for instructions a few feet away. "All right, ankle biters, here's the part where I tell you how much you suck."

With those encouraging words, they began to rehearse, refining and perfecting techniques that Sue had thought of just for their upcoming competition. All it was missing were a few circus animals. Too bad the zoo wouldn't sell her any of the Bengal tigers it had-you know, the ones that were always gnawing on useless caretakers.

When the music came on, Kurt straightened up from his slouching posture and started to tap a foot along with the beat. Sue made a note of his actions before putting him out of her mind. She couldn't waste time thinking about him, not when she had a herd of hormonal teenagers to train. He could do nothing for her trophy case.

After practice had ended, Sue called the co-captains aside to berate them for the multiple failures of the day. Not that there'd been any. The routine had went flawlessly, but they didn't need to know that.

x

When Kurt touched her knee, Brittany took his hand and led him to the makeout spot underneath the bleachers. They started out kissing, which was always nice, but then Kurt's hand moved down and that was even nicer. He didn't like it when she tried to return the favor, though, slapping her hand away with a quiet, 'no.'

Maybe unicorns didn't like their horns touched. Oh, well. Sex was sex, even just the touching kind of sex. And Kurt's plumbing was different, so it wasn't like she was cheating on Santana or anything.

She really wished Kurt would keep kissing her. His hand was the only thing moving now, sending hot jolts of pleasure through her body. His breath puffed against her neck as his lips hovered over the skin there. When Brittany moved her leg to sneak it between Kurt's, she could feel him barely half-hard against her before he moved his hips away.

When Brittany finally climaxed, left spent and gasping, Kurt sank to the ground and pulled his legs up to wrap his arms around them, burying his head in his knees.

Brittany sat down beside him. "I can do you if you want."

Kurt started rocking, back and forth, back and forth.

"Is this a unicorn thing?"

Santana poked her head under the bleachers. "Britt? Coach Sue's looking for you." She paused and looked Kurt over. "What's he doing?"

"I don't know. He's a unicorn."

"What?"

"A unicorn-you know, different. And sparkly. But he won't let me touch his horn."

Santana looked between the two of them, fighting the realization of what her girlfriend had just hinted at. Surely not. Even Brittany knew better. Didn't she?

"Whatever. Just get him. Coach Sue is going ballistic, saying she's going to turn us all into her indentured minions. Like we aren't already?"

Brittany knelt down by Kurt and put a hand on his shoulder. "We have to go now. Do you want some teeth? I want gold ones."

Kurt unfolded himself but moved too slowly for Santana. She strode forward and hauled him up by the arm. He didn't resist at all when she shoved back out into the brightness of the gym, just stumbled once, then righted himself.

Santana linked pinkies with Brittany and gave Kurt one last glance before tugging Brittany across the gym. Kurt followed behind, arms crossed over his chest and his body hunched inward.

x

Kurt was cranky when Burt came to pick him up at 10:30. He was probably just tired. That crazy coach should have never pulled him from class. Burt would have to talk with her or, if she didn't listen, the principal. The change of plans had obviously thrown Kurt off.

"So how did it go?" Burt asked once they were in the truck and headed for home. "That Brittany girl seems nice. Did you have fun?"

Kurt kicked at the glove compartment and it popped open, spilling its random contents onto the floor.

"No, huh? Well, it's probably just first day jitters. You'll like it better tomorrow."

Kurt clutched his school binder closer and said nothing. Even a 'no' would have been nice. Tomorrow would be better, Burt was sure of it.

x

Finn was able to breathe better once he knew Kurt's time at school had passed. It hadn't been too bad, just that one scream and no one tied Finn to it, so everything was just fine, for now.

He could hear the screaming before he even got to the front door of the house. It was a wonder the neighbors hadn't called the police yet. Kurt sounded like he was being murdered. More so than usual.

"What's wrong with him?" Finn yelled to his mom, who paced across the living room rug.

"I don't know," she yelled back. "Something set him off."

At a loud thump from upstairs, Finn winced. Whatever Kurt had hit, himself or Burt, was sure to bruise in the morning. 

"How long has he been doing this?"

"About thirty minutes now. He should wind down any second now."

Sounded like a headphones day, Finn thought with a sigh. He was in his room, a Whitesnake CD rendering him oblivious, when the whole thing finally blew over. Kurt wasn't at the table when Finn came up for dinner.

"He's going to eat in his room tonight," Carole said.

Finn sat and began to spoon some vegetables onto his plate. It was nice to have a quiet dinner with just the two of them for once. Ever since Kurt had arrived, he and his mom hardly ever got to spend time together anymore. Finn was starting to miss her.

Upstairs was strangely quiet, making Finn glance nervously up at the ceiling. He half-expected Kurt to come storming down to demand food-Finn would-but he didn't. Burt came down as Finn and Carole were finishing up their plates. He sank into a seat and reached for his own plate.

"How's it going?" Carole asked.

"Eh. I got him to eat that sandwich you made. Well, most of it. He's upstairs sleeping right now."

Kurt didn't sleep for long. When Burt went to bed a couple of hours later, he found Kurt under the covers staring up at him. Burt climbed in next to him, wary as usual, but Kurt did just as he had last time: nothing. Carole climbed into the opposite side of the bed and they all fell asleep next to each other.

x

Burt woke to Kurt tugging at the front of his t-shirt.

"W-what?" he mumbled. "What's wrong?"

Kurt didn't seem upset. He did look on the verge of kicking, though. "Phone."

The ringing sound of their bedside phone finally registered in Burt's sleep-hazed mind. He fumbled for it and put it to his ear. The police were on the other news and had news. Big news.

"Who is it?" Carole asked when she saw his expression sharpen and sober quickly.

Burt listened for a few more minutes, then hung up. He looked at Kurt, cupped the boy's face in one hand, and looked back at Carole. "The police. They found a body and it might be Elizabeth's."

Kurt climbed out from underneath the covers and crawled out of bed. Burt watched him go, feeling helpless. Elizabeth had been sick when she left, paranoia taking over her mind, and no one ever knew what happened to her. Even now, no one knew. The body, if hers, was too decomposed to tell.

x

If he'd been able to, Kurt could have told them exactly what happened to Elizabeth Hummel. The when, why, and how of it. He'd been there.

x

His second week of school, Kurt suddenly burst into the choir room, interrupting Mr. Schue's ABBA lesson, and darted across the tiled floor to slide under the piano, where he crouched with his legs pulled up to his chest. 

Brad looked down at him and shook his head.

Mrs. Slater appeared at the door, breathless, moments later. 

"No," Kurt said when she spotted him. He wrapped his arms around one of the piano legs.

"Uh, you'd better leave him alone," Finn said when Mrs. Slater went to pull him out. "He doesn't like it when you make him."

"It's fine," Mr. Schue said . "I'll make sure he gets back when class is done."

Mrs. Slater sighed. "His dad's not going to be happy. Coach Sylvester took him out of class three times already."

"Oh, no, it's okay," Finn said. "He'll be cool if Kurt stays here. Right, Mr. Schue?"

Mr. Schue smiled at the other teacher. "It's fine. I'll take full responsibility."

Artie raised his hand after she left. "Uh, Mr. Schue? Who is he?"

"Finn. You want to take this?"

Finn sighed and stood. He knew he couldn't put off introducing Kurt to the others forever, but he had hoped to be the one to decide when. Rachel smiled at him encouragingly and squeezed his hand.

"Guys, this is Kurt, my step-brother."

"He's a unicorn," Brittany added. Santana frowned at her.

"When did you get a brother?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," Mercedes said. "And what's wrong with him? He's looks like a two year old sitting under there like that."

Finn looked to Mr. Schue, who tried to explain without saying too much. It was up to Kurt's family how much the others knew about what had happened to him.

"Kurt's been living with his mother. He and Mr. Hummel were just reunited a few months ago."

"Where's his mom?" Tina asked.

"We don't know," Finn said. Burt had told him not to mention what the police had found when Kurt was around. The less he knew, the better.

"Why don't we get back to ABBA?" Mr. Schue tried. "Kurt can settle in, get used to us."

Santana stood. "I think this is a bad idea."

Finn glared at her. "Nobody asked you."

"Yeah, well, obviously I don't care. Isn't it a little hypocritical, Mr. Schue, that you'll let Crazy McPhee here join but you wouldn't even give Becky Johnson a chance last year when she needed you most? I vote he goes back to class."

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked away. Even Brittany seemed taken aback.

"That was different," Schuester said.

"No, it wasn't."

"Santana! Kurt's staying and that's final." He glared at her until she rolled her eyes and sat back down. "Now, back to ABBA...”

Brittany smiled at Kurt and waved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of alcohol and drug use

Carole had warned him beforehand, but Kurt still looked ready to bolt when Finn came up from his room dressed as Frankenstein.

"It's just make-up," Carole tried to reassure him. "Remember? I told you about Halloween."

Kurt nodded but continued to watch Finn like a hawk until he went to go pick up Rachel for a party New Directions was having at Noah Puckerman's house. Carole considered asking Finn to let Kurt tag along but knew it was a bad ideas the moment she thought of it. Kurt was sure to have another meltdown just from over-stimulation. It wouldn't be fair to put Finn through the public humiliation that scene would cause. She and Kurt were going to stay home and hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters instead. He'd like that. It was a lot more low-key than a party and he could retreat to his room if he started to feel overwhelmed.

That was the plan, anyway.

At first, Kurt seemed charmed by the little kids that showed up, fairies and goblins, ghosts and princesses. He stayed by the door and handed out candy with a smile. Carole could probably get him into a costume if the rest of the day went as well.

A kid with a hockey mask and chainsaw had to ruin it. A teenager, actually. When Kurt opened the door, the kid jumped out at him and yelled. Kurt tossed the bowl at him with a scream and ran for the stairs to the safety of his room.

"Sorry about that," Carole told the boy, handing him a Snickers bar, even though what she really wanted to do was smack him upside the head for scaring people, Kurt specifically.

But it was Halloween. Trick or treat, right?

x

"Dude, what's with your brother? He's kind of, uh..." Sam's eyes darted away from Finn's as he tried to find a nice way of putting his thoughts into words.

"Yeah, man," Puck added. "I get that he's slow and all, but did his mom smack him around or something?"

Finn looked from Sam in his Superman costume to Puck, who had simply put on a T-shirt that said 'my costume is down here'. An arrow pointed downward. Though both had a beer in hand, only Sam looked tipsy, with his speech slurring and his body tilting at odd intervals.

"Burt doesn't want me to talk about it," Finn said. 

"Okay, that's cool." Puck held out a cup. "Have a drink."

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Rachel waved Sam's hand away when he tried to hand her one. "No, thank you. I'm the designated driver."

"Cool," Sam said, before turning to watch as Brittany started to climb on the tabletop and dance. Santana climbed up to join her and they locked lips while dancing, much to Puck's delight. Rachel rolled her eyes at him and tugged on Finn's hand.

"C'mon. I dropped off my dad's karaoke machine. We can sing a duet."

"Sure," Finn agreed. He'd only had a few sips of beer so far. Once the song was over, he could get drunk for once. He wondered what kind of drunk he'd be...

...a talkative drunk, it turned out. Really talkative. When he started talking about drug dealers and locked closets, Rachel hurried to hush him.

"What's he talking about?" Mercedes asked. Suddenly, she giggled. "Wait, is this some kind of sex thing."

"Guys, that's really kinky," Tina added. Then she, too, giggled.

"No!" Rachel looked horrified. "No! It has nothing to do with us."

Santana burst into tears as she plopped next to them on the couch. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, Rachel. Poor Finn." She patted his arm. "I know it's hard, but you'll get over me."

"No, I'm talking about-"

Rachel clamped a hand over Finn's mouth. "Whatever you're going to say," she whispered, "don't."

She didn't know what had happened to Kurt, but she did know that whatever it was didn't need to get out. Especially not at some drunken teenage party like this.

"So who's he talking about?" Quinn asked.

"No one. Just something he saw on TV. Right, Finn?"

Finn stared at her dumbly and it took him a few seconds before the pleading look in her eyes registered. "That's right. TV. It was an awesome show."

Rachel sighed in relief as he started babbling about some made up show where some drug dealers locked a kid in a closet for years before he flipped out and turned an Uzi on them. Thank god no one did things like that in real life. Okay, yeah, occasionally someone flipped out and turned to highly inappropriate violence, but people keep other people in closets, not in real life. That was just in the movies.

x

When Finn stumbled in late, an extra can of beer hidden in the inside pocket of his letterman jacket, the lights were off, so he made his way downstairs and clung carefully to the railing as he walked. The beer was tossed into his dresser, hidden in the sock drawer, before he flopped facedown on the bed. He'd drunk enough that sleep came almost instantly.

Once Finn started to snore, Kurt crept out from where he'd watching from the closet and dug it out. He hadn't had alcohol in ages. He liked beer-it made everything blurry. Like drugs, only not as scary. 

Sometimes, they let him have enough that he'd pass out before things started happening. That white, powdery stuff just kept him awake and made everything spin and flash in pretty colors or made the monsters that much more frightening.

The tab of the can hissed when he popped it open but Finn didn't stir, just kept on snoring. Not that Kurt was paying him any attention. He propped himself up against the dresser and tilted his head back, his throat working as the liquid went down his throat. When he was done, he tossed the can down, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his pajama top, and trundled unsteadily for his room.

It seemed really far away, though. Giving up, Kurt stopped halfway there and climbed into Burt and Carole's bed, instead. He never did like drinking wine. It made him sick. Beer just made him sleepy.

Smiling, he curled up against Burt's side and closed his eyes. This bed was nice. And safe. He could sleep like this forever.

x

Sometime in the morning, as he was coming up from sleep, Burt began to dream he was in a bar with his high school buddies, all of them being loud and obnoxious, as some drunks were wont to do. At the first cheer, he blinked his eyes, confused, until he realized it was his alarm going off.

Smacking the off button, he turned to kiss Carole good morning, only to find Kurt next to him. He blinked up at Burt and yawned. Burt reared back at the smell of alcohol.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Mmm." Kurt stretched, not in the least bit disturbed by Burt's scolding.

"Where in the world did he get it from?" Carole asked as she slowly sat up to look at the stain on Kurt's sleeve. It smelled like beer.

"Finn," Kurt chirped. 

Carole and Burt glanced at each other. They knew Finn had gone to a party last night. It was the weekend and all, but they'd hoped he'd be responsible. How could he bring stuff into the house like that, especially with Kurt, who probably didn't even know he shouldn't have, living there now?

x

The next day at school, all the kids except Rachel slumped into the school, looking like they'd just fallen out of a moving car.

"I though we said never again," Quinn muttered.

"Please, like we didn't know you wouldn't be boozing it up with the rest of us," Santana snapped.

"You got drunk, too, Santana," Mercedes pointed out.

"Yeah, but I never said I wouldn't."

"Guys." Artie held up a thermos. "I have the solution-"

With a collective, zombie-like groan the others shuffled away from him, all except Brittany. She smiled and reached for the thermos in his hands but Santana yanked her away. There was not going to be a repeat performance of last year, no way. Artie was just going to have to be 'cured' all on his own.

x

"I'm sorry, Rachel. But I've been grounded. For, like, a month." Finn eased his locker door shut and turned to face his girlfriend. "Sorry."

"Sorry? Finn, they're playing The Sound of Music. I really wanted you to come with me."

"Yeah, well, maybe you can bring Kurt. He's not the one grounded."

Rachel gave him a reproachful look and Finn groaned, resting his forehead against the lockers.

"I know, okay, Rachel? You don't have to lecture me."

Rachel's face softened. "I wasn't. I was just going to say, that's a good idea. Do you think your dad will let him go?"

Finn sighed. "You don't want him to go. He'll just freak out. You've heard him go off before. What are you going to do if he starts screaming in a crowded movie theater?"

"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." She tried to put on a smile. "Maybe I can get one of my dad's to go with me. Leroy loves The Sound of Music, too."

Finn took her hand. "I'll make it up to you."

"With a Barbra marathon?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Finn didn't really like Barbra Streisand but if it made Rachel happy-if it made up for his stupid mistake with Kurt-then he'd do whatever she wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

  
At school, Kurt slowly learned the alphabet and how to read.  He could even write his name out by the time Thanksgiving rolled around.  Burt even let him have a few small, limited parts in Coach Sylvester's Cheerios routines once he realized how much Kurt liked doing all the physical activity.  Besides, his kid did have an impressive high kick.  Might as well put it to good use.  
  
Santana caught Kurt and Brittany making out under the bleachers again but got between them before he could do more than skim his hand over her skin and press his face against the juncture between neck and shoulders, like he just wanted to feel the contact.  
  
The first day that school let out for the holidays, the man from the shoot-out, who had taken the money and run, blew into Lima in a nondescript white van.  The people who should have been told about him never knew because Kurt didn't say a word.  He was good at keeping quiet.  
  
x  
  
"So how much did you tell them?"  
  
x  
  
Carole glanced up from her spot at one of the grocery store cash registers and smiled at the sight of Kurt sitting quietly on a bench further down by the door.  He'd been doing a lot better, talking more, and, with the exception of a few unexpected outbursts, hardly ever screamed and yelled anymore.  He did still hit on occasion, but that would time more time to fix.  
  
x  
  
Howard-his name was Howard.  Howard, Dean, and Kyle.  Kyle, Dean, and Howard.  They hadn't been the only ones.  But he had been the one to grab hold of his mother's scarf that day.  
  
Howard put a hand lightly on Kurt's knee.  "You look good all cleaned up.  Really good."  
  
x  
  
As Carole put the groceries in the trunk of the car, Kurt stood beside her with his arms crossed and his posture slumped.  He didn't say a word as they got in the card, just sat there in the passenger seat staring at his knees.  
  
"Kurt?  You okay?" Carole asked.  
  
Kurt said nothing.  He didn't even move.  Carole frowned and glanced at him worriedly.  Him being quiet wasn't unusual, but this complete and total unresponsiveness was.  He usually did something when people talked to him.  
  
Once at home, Kurt disappeared.  Carole started putting the groceries away, not thinking anything of it.  Kurt liked to be alone sometimes, like all teenagers did.  Finn had practice that day, so Burt was the first one home.  The two of them spent  an hour on the couch snuggling before Carole got up to start dinner.  
  
"Where's Kurt?" Burt asked.  
  
"I think he's still in his room," Carole said absently, concentrating on the pan in front of her.  
  
"No.  He's not there.  I checked."  
  
Carole paused and looked up.  Burt looked worried, his brow furrowed.  She turned off the stove, set her ingredients aside, and went to him.   
  
"I'll help you look."  
  
After what eventually turned into a frantic search, they found Kurt hiding under Finn's bed.  
  
"Hey, buddy," Burt said.  "What are you doing down there?"  
  
Kurt stared out at him, eyes wide and barely blinking.  There was something oddly still about him, something that Burt didn't like.  
  
He stuck a hand under the bed to touch only, only to pull back when sharp teeth sank into the webbing between his thumb and index finger.  The bit was small but deep enough to bleed.  Burt used Finn's bathroom to clean it and slap on a Band-Aid before coming back to the bed and kneeling down again.  
  
"What's wrong?  You want to talk about it?"  
  
Nothing.  Not even a 'no.'  Something was definitely wrong.  Burt didn't like leaving Finn's room, but he knew that trying to force Kurt out would just cause an epic fit to occur.     
  
By the end of the day, Kurt was still there.  He hadn't even come out to go to the bathroom.  Burt was forced to reach under the bed and haul him out.  The blowup was spectacular.  Kurt fought like an animal, teeth snapping, nails clawing at Burt's arms.  That low, guttural sound, one Burt hadn't heard in weeks, came out of his mouth in a feral growl.  
  
Burt didn't know what else to do but cling to him, not letting Kurt's flailing body hit anything that would hurt him.  This was harder to witness than the shower incident, which was saying a lot.  
  
Carole appeared briefly at the top of the stairs, just long enough for Burt to register her presence before she disappeared again.  Kurt had gone quiet by the time the lights of the ambulance began to flash across the basement's small window, but he was still struggling against Burt's hold even as his body tired.  
  
The whole street-hell, the whole town-had to have known what happened, Burt was sure of it.  In a small place like Lima, secrets got out fast.  At least his neighbors wouldn't know the extent of this secret, how deep it went.  
  
"How's he doing?" Carole asked later.  She handed Burt a cup of coffee and sat beside him on the bed.  
  
Kurt was asleep under their covers, his hands curled underneath his chin and his knees pulled up.  He looked so peaceful it was hard to believe that not fifteen minutes ago he'd been a raging wildfire.  
  
"I don't get it," Burt said.  "He was doing so well."  
  
Carole shook her head.  "I don't what happened.  He was fine until we got beck from the grocery store.  I don't know what triggered it."  
  
x  
  
They had Thanksgiving at home.  Carole's parents showed up, as did Burt's sister Mildred, who immediately pulled Kurt to her ample chest and started sobbing over his frozen form.  Burt managed to pull him free from her gin-soaked embrace, but he looked ruffled and just a bit in shock.  
  
Kurt did manage to spend an hour around all these new people, hovering around the kitchen table and snatching bits of food off to stuff hungrily into his mouth until Carole caught him with a handful of mashed potatoes and shooed him away.  He made a few grumbling noises and wandered up to his room.  Carole came up with food later while the guys were watching the game.  
  
She smiled as she watched Kurt rearrange his scarf drawer, running his hands over the various materials, which ran from woolly to silky under his palms.  She couldn't wait for Christmas.  Kurt was going to love decorating the Christmas tree tomorrow.  He had a knack for that sort of thing.  
  
They sat on the bed together, Carole setting out a napkin and some silverware for him as if he were dining with everyone else and still needed proper etiquette.  Kurt had mastered the use of forks and spoons but had a fear of knives lingering behind.    
  
Carole didn't ask why.  There were some things she didn't need to know, all the things Kurt wouldn't tell her anyway.  
  
x  
  
Burt came up after the others had gone home.  Carole was downstairs with Finn, the two of them washing the last pile of dirty dishes.  
  
"Ugh, Dad, no."  Kurt squirmed away from his father's embrace, ready to kick his way to freedom, but Burt stepped back in time for his foot to land on air.  
  
"I'm proud of you, Kurt," Burt said.  "You did real good today.  It must have been hard having all those people around."  
  
Kurt shrugged.  
  
"No, I mean it.  You should get a treat for this.  Anything you've got your eye on?"  
  
"A car."  
  
"Uhhh..." Burt took off his hat and rubbed at the top of his head.  "How about we start with something smaller and work our way up.  You want a bike, instead?"  
  
"No."  Kurt walked out of the room, went downstairs, and stopped at the kitchen.  "I want a car," he repeated.  
  
Carole turned to look at him.  "You want a _car_?"  
  
"We'll talk about it later."  Burt came over to kiss her on the cheek.  
  
"What does he want a car for?" Finn asked.  
  
Kurt glared and kicked him.  
  
x  
  
The next morning, Carole's Hal Everett called to tell them that Carole's car was parked halfway on his lawn, a trail of downed mail boxes behind it.  Burt didn't even have to ask who did it.  Kurt fled the moment Burt entered his room, managing to dodge past him into the hallway.  
  
"Kurt.  It's okay!  Come back here."  
  
Burt chased him through the hall and caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs.  One grab at Kurt's arm and they were back to square one, with Kurt a rocking, quivering ball and making strange noises.  
  
Burt sighed and sat next to him.  He should never have chased after a traumatized boy like Kurt.    
  
"It's okay.  I'm not mad about the car."  
  
And he wasn't.  Not really.  Kurt had a screwed up sense of right and wrong.  He probably didn't think there was anything at all wrong with taking the car out for a joyride.  Burt shouldn't have been surprised by it, either, considering he'd expressed such an interest in it earlier.    
  
"What's going on?"  Carole stood at the top of the stairs, blinking down at them.  "What happened?"  
  
"We've got to take your car into the shop," Burt said.  "Kurt took it for a little spin earlier."  
  
Carole's mouth opened, then closed.  "Well.  It looks like we'll have to start hiding the keys."  
  
x  
  
Rachel pulled Finn aside the first day back and told him to bring her to his house after school ended.  
  
"What, why?" Finn asked.  
  
"I want to try something.  It'll good for him, I promise."  
  
Through all the Glee Club drama, all the in-fighting and hurt feeling, Kurt sat silently in the back.  He said very little when there and sang not at all.  Not even Brittany could get him to sing in front of the others.  But then, to her, his screaming fits were musical masterpieces that she could bob her head along to in a state of blissful ignorance.  
  
The first time Kurt stepped into Rachel's room, his nose wrinkled with distaste at the pink color scheme.  
  
"So what did you want him here for, anyway?" Finn asked, nudging Kurt further into the room so he could enter.  
  
"I thought Kurt might like to try karaoke.  I have over one thousand songs to pick from."  
  
"You brought us here for karaoke?"  
  
"Umm, yes?"  
  
They both fell silent when Kurt spotted her stereo and poked at some of the buttons.  
  
"Would you like to hear some music?" Rachel went to stand beside him.  "I'd recommend the song list for Wicked.  It has a lovely-"  
  
"Gaga."  
  
Rachel glanced at Finn.  "Ga...ga?"    
  
"He's talking about that Lady Gaga lady," Finn says.  "Burt bought him one of her albums; he listens to it all the time."  
  
Rachel smiled and clapped her hands together.  "Oh, excellent!  I have just the song."  
  
Finn rolled the eyes when the first words to Born This Way came on, but Kurt smiled at the sound.  Rachel grabbed her brush and used it as a pretend microphone as she sang along to the music, grabbing Kurt's hand to pull him with her.  
  
She moved to the beat, nothing choreographed, just small movements and adorable little jumps.  Kurt actually smiled at her and shuffled his feet  beside her, trying to pick up any small movements, something to get him moving, too.  
  
They had to listen to the whole thing.  Apparently, this wasn't the CD Burt had given Kurt.  Unfortunately for Finn, when they were done, they had to go back to her other album and start all over-and then listen to Born This Way one more time before Finn and Kurt had to go home.  
  
Kurt's face was flushed with happiness and his eyes sparkled as he got into Burt's truck.    
  
"How'd it go?" Burt asked, looked back and smiling at Kurt's happy expression.  
  
As the truck pulled out of the driveway, Kurt started singing.  Finn groaned.  He had to listen to Kurt sing Lady Gaga tunes the whole way home.


	8. Chapter 8

The first time Kurt called Burt Dad, he had to repeat it like a robot before Burt realized that it was him Kurt was talking to. Kurt was repeating his name now, still in that monotonous manner he'd first used.

Burt pulled his head out of the hood of one of his customer's cars and grinned over at Kurt, who continued to chant softly even though Burt was looking right at him. He wore a cheerleader outfit and was holding a piece of paper which he used to nudge at Burt's oil-stained arm.

"What has that woman done now?" Burt asked, taking the paper in his hands, careful to not get ink on it. The cheerleaders were going to an away game and Coach Sylvester wanted Kurt to go with them. "This Finn's game?"

Kurt shrugged. That usually meant yes.

"I don't know if you're ready for this, bud..." Burt didn't know if he was ready for this, either.

At least Kurt was wearing sneakers this time when he kicked Burt in the shin. They hurt a heck of a lot less than the boots. Burt tried to muffle his cursing as he signed the paper.

"You guys ride with the football players?" 

"Brittany," Kurt chirped. "I want to sit with Brittany."

"Well," Burt chuckled, "I'll have to talk with your coach. Now put this in your bag and don't lose it."

He folded the permission slip up and handed it back. Kurt put it back into his satchel, then sashayed away, a jaunty skip to his step that Burt had, many times since Kurt had come home, never thought he'd see. Kurt actually enjoyed going out now-just the other day, he had bolted from the house jabbering something about Glee Club and RachelBrittanyMercedes.

He was getting better, slowly but surely.

x

When it came time to leave, Kurt repacked his suitcase three times, even though he was only going to be gone for one night. The first time he repacked it was to undo what Carole had done, and the second time had been to add more scarves. Why Kurt needed more scarves was beyond Burt, but if they acted as a sort of security blanket, he didn't see the harm.

The third time Kurt repacked his suitcase was just nervous busy work.

Carole spent the last few minutes fussing over Kurt, trying to make sure he was mentally prepared to be away from home. Both of them worried that Kurt would have a freakout while gone, but he couldn't stay locked away at home forever. 

Burt took Finn aside before they left the house. "You'll look after your brother, won't you?"

"Sure, Burt," Finn said, though he didn't really know what he was supposed to do if anything happened. The two of them were not only taking separate buses, they'd hardly see each other for most of the night, not until after the game was over.

By the school buses, Carole kissed Finn on the cheek, which was quite a reach, then turned to fuss at the scarf wrapped around Kurt's neck. She would have kissed him, too, if he'd let her.

"Now, you be good, okay? Listen to your coach and stay with the other kids."

Kurt smacked her hand away and scowled when Burt tried to ruffle his hair.

Brittany appeared beside them and waved. "Hi, Mr. Hummel."

A shadow pass over Kurt's face, but his expression shifted so quickly to one of happiness that Burt wasn't sure he could place the brief one that had come before it.

"Brittany," Burt greeted her. "You take care of Kurt, okay?"

She nodded, taking Kurt's hand in hers. "We're going to have so much fun. Right, Santana?"

The girl beside Brittany frowned. Burt had never seen Santana Lopez smile. She always had a sour look on her face, like she'd never had a day of happiness. She smirked but never really smiled.

Coach Sylvester started barking orders at her Cheerios, herding them onto the bus. Burt sniffed, not wanting to let go, but, well, he had to. He couldn't cling to his son forever. Kurt looked back only once, right before he stepped through the doors to the bus. Then he was gone, out of Burt's reach.

x

Santana got stuck a few seats behind where Brittany and Kurt sat together. She had to crane her neck to keep an eye on them, but her evil eye wasn't enough to keep them apart.

Kurt's hand was on Brittany's bare knee, tracing the smooth skin with his fingers, running them lightly back and forth, up and down.

"You want to make out?" Brittany asked.

Kurt frowned but still lay his hand flat above her knee, moving up and down, ever closer to the inside of her thigh.

Santana leaned into their space. "Hey, Bella, why don't you remove your paws from my girl and go find something sparkly to play with?"

Kurt continued to caress Brittany's leg.

"Stop that!" Santana pushed his hand away and grabbed him by the arm. Though his body stiffened at her touch, Kurt got up willingly when she hauled him up and pulled him out into the aisle. Having unseated him, she sat triumphantly in his place.

"Lady, take a seat," Sue yelled at him from the from of the bus.

He hovered at Brittany's side for a moment, then wandered away.

“You should be nicer to Kurt,” Brittany said. “Dolphins are an endangered species.”

“I thought he was a unicorn.”

“He is. He’s a unicorn and a dolphin. That’s, like, double rainbows.”

“Are you saying he’s...?” Santana trailed off and glanced back to see Kurt sitting in one of the opposite back seats, lightly smacking his forehead into the leather in front of him.

“Uh-huh. Kurt’s capital G gay.”

Santana burst out laughing. “He’s had his hands all over you. There’s no way he’s gay.”

"Yeah, but he only lets me do guy things to him."

Santana's smile faded and she glanced back to where Kurt was busy twitching like he was about to have a freakin' seizure. Puzzle pieces of Finn's drunken story were clicking together in her brain, making her stomach clench with knowledge she could have done without.

x

:Hey. Lady." Sue smirked down at her newest cheerleader. "I don't care if you want to watch your brains dribble out of your ears but at least wait until after the game to do it. I don't want to pay the dry cleaning bill for that uniform."

Kurt looked up at her, blinked, then looked over to where Brittany and Santana sat.

"Out," Sue barked to the boy sitting by the window. He clambered over the seat in front of them, went across a cheerleader's lap, and fled to the front of the bus without a word of protest. Sue waved Kurt over to sit next to him.

"Now," she began, "I've been told you have a problem with the hands there, which is why you'll be staying with me tonight. I find any of your little sausages near me and I'll eat them for breakfast, not that I blame you for finding me irresistible. Who wouldn't?"

"No," Kurt said. He edged away from her, closer to the seat the other boy had escaped over.

Sue smiled and patted him on the knee. "I'll tell you what, Hummel. You get through tonight without so much as throwing a stone and I'll see about taking you with us to the next big game. How about that?"

Kurt smiled a little and gave her a short nod.

x

The Titans won, but just barely. The team-plus the cheerleaders-went to a restaurant afterwards to celebrate their win. As Finn started to dig into his plate, Strando leaned over and said, "Hey, why does that dude keep staring at you like that?"

Finn glanced over to where Kurt sat with his chin propped up in the palm of his hand. He had that starry-eyed look on his face again, the one that made Finn's stomach turn uneasily.

"He does that to everybody," Finn lied. Rachel had confirmed that, yes, guys could have crushes on other guys, even if one of the guys was straight. Like, really straight. 'It's never going to happen' straight. 

"It's creepy. Is he-?"

"Hey, lay off," Finn said. "That's my brother." Inwardly, he winced at the admission, but he couldn't let this guy rag on Kurt. He'd promised Burt.

Across the room, Brittany leaned closer to Kurt and Finn could have sworn he saw the other boy flinch. He watched them for a few more seconds but everything looked normal between them. Well, as normal as anything could be when Kurt was involved.

Santana, sitting on Brittany's other side, suddenly looked up and met Finn's eye. Her face was unreadable, blank, like she was so busy thinking that she'd forgotten to scowl at him like she normally would. Finn looked back at Kurt, whose fingers were slowly winding and unwinding in the scarf at his neck.

x

Kurt woke in the middle of the night, bones aching with need, and looked over at the other bed. Coach Sylvester lay asleep under the covers, her arms crossed over the top blanket like a vampire...or a corpse. She was an intimidating woman but made of real live flesh, something warm to touch and feel.

He slipped out of bed and inched over to stand beside her's, looking down at her still form and weighing his options. 

With a light sigh, Kurt crawled onto the bed, moving carefully, and reached out a hand. She would like it, most did. Not recently, but before, they did. Kurt sometimes did, too, even if he didn't want to.

"I'm going to stop you right there." Sue opened her eyes, sat up, and raised an index finger. Kurt toppled over in surprise, landing on the floor beside the bed. "As flattered as I am by the attention, you're not my type. I like men."

Kurt mumbled under his breath and kicked at the mattress.

"I'm sorry, what was that? Your voice is too high pitched for normal human ears like mine to hear."

"I want my mom," Kurt repeated louder.

Sue nodded towards the nightstand. "Phone's right there, Lady. I'm sure your overprotective bear of a father left you a phone card to use."

"She's dead."

Sue paused. If she were still capable of feeling emotions, she would have felt sorry for the boy huddled on the floor, but she'd had all those related glands removed years ago. "Well," she tried. "You're luckier than I am, kiddo."

Kurt stayed where he was, except now he was rocking back and forth with his knees drawn up. Sue watched him for a few moments, then lay back down. It wasn't like he was going to hurt himself or, most importantly, Sue herself, so what was the harm of leaving him there? Besides, the competition was over. If he wanted to be a liability to the team, now would be the time for him to do it.

And if Sue felt on edge the whole night, unable to sleep, it wasn't because she cared. The caffeine from earlier was keeping her awake, that was all.

x

He was still there in the morning, not that too long had passed since he'd tried touching her while she slept. Sue nudged him with a foot, only to get swatted at.

"C'mon, lady. You want to get home, don't you?"

Nothing. Kurt just pulled his knees closer to his body and kept his face buried in them. Frustrated by his lack of response, Sue grabbed his arm to pull him up, only to get kicked in the leg.

"Clearly, we have a problem," she said between clenched teeth as she hobbled back to her bed.

Kurt didn't answer, leaving the coach to regard him silently. She'd been given part of the story and could guess the rest. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to proceed. It was either calling Burt Hummel-something she did not look forward to-or getting the only other family member that had come on this trip.

She'd have to get Hudson in here.


	9. Chapter 9

Finn knew the day was bound to come when Kurt would freak out in a major way where people from school could see him.  He'd just hoped they would be closer to home when it happened.  But no, it had to happen far from home, where Burt wasn't there if things got out of hand.  
  
Kurt was curled up in a corner of the room when Finn entered.  
  
"Hey, bud."  Finn knelt down and tried to think how Burt would handle the situation.    Touching was a big no.  It would only lead to something awkward.  "You want to talk to Burt?"  
  
He went to pull out his phone but Kurt's voice, muffled against his knees, stopped him.  
  
"I want my mom."  
  
"Uh..."  Finn glanced nervously at the cheerleaders who were crowded around the doorway.  "Sorry.  You sure you don't want Burt?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Hey, I know."  Finn grabbed a cellphone from the hand of the nearest gawking cheerleader and hung up on whoever it was she was talking to.  He didn't care.  There was only one person besides Burt who could help.  
  
"Finn," Rachel chirped when she answer her phone.  "I'm so glad you called, I was just thinking about you."  
  
Kurt's head lifted at the sound of Rachel's voice.  
  
"Yeah," Finn said into the phone.  "Listen, Rach, I need your help..."  
  
Kurt looked conflicted at the first strains of Bad Romance sounded through the speaker and Finn watched him carefully, not sure if this was going to work.  
  
"La, la, ooh, la, la," Finn sang helpfully,  trying to jump-start the Kurt Hummel Lady Gaga lovefest.  
  
Kurt sniffed and rubbed at his eyes but didn't seem all that thrilled with the music-which was a first.  Kurt was crazy about Lady Gaga.  Only a few minutes into the song, he struck out, causing the phone to fly out of Finn's hand and slide under the bed.  
  
Finn tensed, warning bells ringing in his head.  This was not going to be pretty.    
  
He grabbed Kurt to him just before the first scream hit, the way he'd seen Burt do it.  Both arms wrapped securely around Kurt back, one hand pressing his chin to Finn's chest in an attempt to muffle the noise.    
  
In a last ditch effort to calm Kurt down, Finn started to sing the opening lines to 'Somewhere Out There'.  He knew Kurt liked that song.  Rachel, still on speaker phone and under the bed, joined in moments later.  
  
When Kurt finally leaned limp and silent against him, Finn looked up, ready to tell the rubberneckers off for standing around, but only Coach Sylvester stood there, propped against the closed door.  
  
"Let's go home," she said abruptly before leaving the room.  
  
x  
  
Finn went home with the cheerleaders.  Kurt was a limp noodle the whole time and rested against Finn's shoulder the whole bus ride.  Brittany kept looking at them with teary, worried eyes.  Santana, sitting beside her, just scowled.  
  
Their parents waited for them at the school.  While the other parents there complained about the late arrival time, braving Sue's special brand of wrath, Burt and Carole greeted Kurt like he was a soldier coming home from war.  
  
"Dad, no," Kurt grumbled softly as he tried to pull away, ready to kick out with his feet to get to freedom, but when only found himself wrapped in Carole's embrace next.  He usually didn't kick out at Carole.  Usually.  
  
It must have been a rough trip.  
  
Finn offered to carry a limping Carole to the car, while Burt and Kurt lagged behind, but she just waved him off with a small laugh, calling her aching leg a much-earned war wound.  
  
x  
  
Kurt stayed out of school for the next few days and spent his time moping around the house and sleeping.  The day before he was due back, Santana stayed after class, waiting until everyone had left before approaching Mr. Schue.  
  
"Hey.  Can I talk to you?"  
  
Schuester barely glanced at her as he gathered his things.  "Santana, if this is about the solo-"  
  
"No!  No, it's...it's about Kurt.  And Brittany."  
  
Mr. Schue finally looked at her and frowned.  "Kurt and Brittany?"  
  
Santana shifted uncomfortably.  "Yeah.  I think there's something wrong."  
  
"Okay.  Why don't you have a seat?"  
  
She sat down in one of the class's cheap plastic chairs and began to talk.

x

Brittany was pulled from class the next day, Becky handing her a note sending her to the principal's office.  She looked around at the adults, plus Kurt, gathered around the room.  
  
"Hi, Mom.  Did I forget my lunch?"  
  
"No, honey."  Mrs. Pearce patted the seat next to her.  "Mr. Figgins just wants to talk to you."  
  
The Pearces sat on a little couch pushed up against the wall, while Burt in a seat in front of Figgins's desk, Kurt beside him.  Mr. Schuester was leaning against the desk as Sue paced near the window.  
  
"What's going on?" Brittany asked.  Mrs. Pearce patted her knee after she'd sat down.  
  
"It's come to our attention," Sue started, "that the two of you have been carrying out inappropriate conduct on school grounds."  
  
"But I'm not part of the band.  I'm in cheerleading."  
  
"You've been taking advantage of my son," Burt interrupted with.  Kurt stared at his knees, refusing to look up.  
  
"He's the one who started this," Mrs. Pearce sputtered.   "We have a witness."  
  
"Brittany does have a reputation for being, well, promiscuous," Schuester said.  
  
"It is why we sprinkle ground up birth control on her cocoa puffs," Mr. Pearce muttered.  
  
Brittany glanced over at him.  "I thought those were snowflakes."  
  
"Why don't we ask Hummel what's going on?"  Sue said.  Everyone looked to Kurt at her words.  
  
"Kurt," Burt prodded.  "Is this true?  You wanted to be with Brittany here?"  
  
Kurt shrugged and Burt sighed at the admission.  
  
"Is that a yes?" Figgins asked.  
  
"Kurt.  Look at me."  Burt tried to tilt Kurt's face up with gentle fingers, only to have him jerk away.  "Come on, talk to me.  Why would you do this to yourself?"  
  
"You won't let me," Kurt bit out.  When Burt reached for him again, he lashed out for the second time in only a few days between.  
  
As Burt tried to control Kurt's flailing, Brittany watched with a frown.  "I don't get it," she said to her mother.  "Did I hurt him?"  
  
Mrs. Pearce, shocked at the scene playing out in front of them, merely shushed her.  
  
Both Burt and Kurt were standing, their chairs knocked over in the struggle, when Kurt's angry yells turned to crying.  It took a minute for Burt to recognize the change, but when he did, he only pulled his son closer. tightening his grip no matter how hard Kurt tried to pull away.  
  
Burt held him while he cried, really cried this time, no screaming or anger, just hot tears soaking the front of Burt's shirt.  Once the crying stopped, though, Kurt's hands began to roam.  
  
"Whoa."  Burt pulled away.  "Remember what we talked about, buddy?"  
  
"Well."  Sue crossed her arms over her chest.  "I guess that little displays answers our question."  
  
x  
  
Finn cornered his main suspect in the hallway later.  "Santana, what the hell?  They pulled Kurt from school."  
  
Santana slammed her locker door shut.  "Maybe if octopussy could kept his hands to himself-"  
  
"Kurt was abused," Finn said, trying to keep his voice low as Santana tried to walk away.  "He can't help himself."  
  
Santana spun back around with a bitter laugh.  "You think Brittany can?  This is Brittany.  She blew the janitor in a supply closet once because he said he liked her hair."  
  
Finn wrinkled his nose.  "That's disgusting."  
  
"Yeah, like you're one to judge, Mr. Like a Virgin."  
  
"Just tell me why you did it?"  
  
"Somebody has to look after Britt."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
Santana leaned in close and jabbed her finger at Finn's chest.  "What do you think would have happened if someone else had found out about them?  Your sweet, innocent little crazy would've been painted an angel and Brittany would be the one to get thrown under the bus."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Didn't you hear?  Brittany has a reputation.  Everyone knows that girls with reputations get the short end of the stick in these situations.  I won't let that happen to Brittany.  No way."  
  
She pushed past Finn and ignored how he called after her.  
  
x  
  
At the house, Kurt started to organize his closet.  His dresser.  Even the shoe rack which held his growing collection of fashionable footwear.  No matter what Burt tried, he remained silent, too busy sorting through his clothes to answer.  
  
x  
  
"Is Kurt mad at me?"  
  
Santana ran Brittany's hair through a brush, letting the golden locks ripple with movement as gravity pulled them downwards.  
  
"Santana?"  
  
x  
  
Kurt didn't come back to school.  At his age, he didn't have to, legally, so Burt decided to keep him home.  Carole quit her job to stay with him, which would put a bit of strain on their finances, but they'd pull through.  The shop was doing good and they had money saved in the bank, though Christmas was getting closer.  Money was always tight during the holidays, more so with two teenage boys to shop for.  
  
Though Kurt remained quiet and unresponsive, he and Carole managed to set up their own little routine.  He'd sit with her in the morning and they'd carefully moisturize their skin, then Carole would brush out her hair and put on perfume while Kurt spritzed on cologne.  
  
One morning he stepped up behind her and wrapped one of his silk scarves, blue like the sea, around her throat.  It was soft against her skin and looked nice, but really...  
  
"I don't think it'll go with my denim jackets."  
  
He looped the ends together-the way Howard had slipped his mother's own silken scarf around her neck-and pulled it snug.  And kept going, until it cut into Carole's neck, cutting off her air supply.  Carole felt a brief moment of panic and then the pressure lessened.  
  
"Mother," Kurt said and walked out of the room.  
  
Carole stared after him and rubbed at her throat, where a light bruise would form by the end of the day.  
  
That night, Carole wrapped her arms around Burt and asked, "Did they ever find out what happened to Kurt's mom?"  
  
Burt's hand tightened over hers where it rested on his chest.  "No.  Why?  Kurt say something, some kind of hint?  Anything?"  
  
She told him about the incident with the scarf earlier.  Burt sighed and got out of bed.  
  
"Where are you going?" Carole asked.  
  
"Kurt."  He thought about asking her to join him but this was between him and Kurt.  A grief only the two of them could share so keenly.  
  
Kurt was curled up in his own bed, the blankets thrown over him.  He looked peaceful, untroubled, when asleep.  Burt tried not to wake him as he sat on the edge of the bed and moved to stroke the side of his face, but Kurt stirred at the touch and made an irritated sound, still mostly asleep.  
  
Burt moved up the bed.  Kurt shifted restlessly and nestled his face into his father's side.  For once, he didn't try to make any sexual passes, just sighed and fell back asleep.  Burt shifted him slightly closer.  
  
Kurt was the last thing he had left of Elizabeth.  As much as he wanted to hate her for running off like she did, he just didn't have it in him.  She was sick.  Much like Kurt now, she couldn't help herself.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Things went smoother for Finn now that Kurt wasn't in school anymore, but he'd found a strange, brotherly fierceness towards the other boy ever since the two of them had gone away for the game. Right now, Finn wanted Kurt back in school. He could act like a real brother and protect him like he should have been doing in the first place.

They got to spend some time together during Christmas break, though, when Finn and Rachel got to take him to the mall with them to shop for last minute gifts. Finn could see Kurt's foot tracing up and down Rachel's leg while they sat across each other at the food court. He'd have to watch that. Any higher and-

"Okay, let's switch." 

Rachel sighed in relief and let Finn usher her out of her seat. Kurt grumbled something under his breath.

"Yeah, well," Finn grumbled back.

"Have you thought of what you're getting Carole?" Rachel asked Kurt, who shrugged. The two of them, with Finn acting as go-between, had been working on something special for Burt. "I have something ordered for Finn." She shot him a look. "Actually, I should go get that now."

Finn looked at Kurt. The two of them had never really talked before. "So...how's it going?" 

Kurt shrugged.

"Um, great? It's nice to be out of the house, huh?"

Silence.

"This would be a great time to get Rachel's gift. I'm thinking jewelry. She loved that star necklace I got her last year." And it was only a few days till Christmas-there was bound to be something left to buy.

Kurt kicked at his leg half-heartedly.

"C'mon. You can help me pick out something nice." Kurt did have good taste in fashion. At least, Finn thought he did. He wore what was in the magazines a lot of the times. That was fashionable, right?

They were leaving the jewelry store when one of the football players rammed his heavy weight into Kurt, sending him reeling backwards. Finn managed to catch him just before he fell, but Karofsky still gave him an extra shove for good measure.

"Hey, ladies," Azimio laughed. "Buying your wedding rings?"

"Hope you're getting a matching set," Karofsky added.

Kurt scowled and kicked a leg out. His aim was spectacular. Azimio sank to the ground with a groan, hand over his groin. Kurt took one look at Karofsky's darkening face, turned, and fled, dropping his bags on the floor. Karofsky ran after him.

Cursing, Finn followed and tried to keep Kurt in his line of vision as he ran. It was a difficult task, though, as Kurt was darting in and out of the crowds. At a short, brief howl of 'no' from Kurt somewhere nearby, Finn darted down a side corridor of shops but was left spinning in circles as he craned his head around and around. 

A girl's bewildered voice caught his attention. "Uh, sir? You can't sit in the displays."

Finn dashed into the sporting goods store, where an employee knelt by a tent set-up near the entrance. 

"Sir?" The employee repeated. "Please don't make me call security."

Finn jogged up to her. "Hey! Hey, no. He's, uh...he'll freak out if you do that."

"B-but he can't be in there. I'll get in trouble if he doesn't come out."

Kurt's arm hurt from where he'd been grabbed and shaken and his lips still tingled from a month old kiss-but his dad said he didn't have to anymore. They'd had a talk about it after he'd gotten pulled out of school.

Finn knelt down and peered into the unzipped flap. Kurt stared out at him.

"Burt wants to talk to you." Finn thrust his cell phone through the tent flap. 

"Hey, buddy, how you doing?" Burt said when Kurt mumbled a hello into the phone. "Why don't you come out of that tent? Finn's worried about you."

Kurt's mind flashed back to an earlier conversation. "I want a car," he said.

"How about that bicycle?"

"A car."

"A scooter?"

"A car."

Burt sighed. "Give Finn the phone."

Kurt passed the phone outside. A moment later, Finn stuck his head back in.

"Burt says you'll get a car, but only if you get out of the tent right now."

Kurt hurried to climb out. There were people gathered around and they clapped when he emerged. 

"Thank god," Rachel breathed. She threw her arms around him, only to quickly back up when Kurt's foot began to move into kicking position.

"I'm getting a car," Kurt told her.

x

On Christmas, the lights were all blinking and the tree sparkled with icicles and ornaments, the presents underneath spilling out from underneath it. 

Kurt didn't get the whole presents thing and slept late. By noon, Finn could contain himself any longer and rushed upstairs.

"Hey, come on. You need to come downstairs." He leaned over to shake Kurt awake, only to get kicked in the leg for his troubles. "Ow! Would you stop kicking me?"

Rachel stuck her head around the door. "Is he up?"

Kurt groaned at the sight of her and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into a pillow and jamming it up around his ears to block out the sound of her voice. Rachel frowned. They'd been getting along so well lately, ever since Finn had started to bring Kurt to her house after school. 

"Kurt?" she tried. "Will you come downstairs, please? We've got a surprise for you, but she can't wait long."

Kurt's head perked up and he looked over at Rachel, who smiled and nodded. At that, he was off the bed and out the door, racing down the stairs. The whole Glee Club sat in the living room waiting for him, including Brittany, who smiled at him when he reached the bottom step.

"Kurt!" She rushed forward to hug him.

As soon as her arms wrapped around his neck, he shoved her back, causing her to stumble. They stared at each other in silence as Brittany's eyes filled with tears.

"Dude," Finn said. "You've been moping around all week. I thought you wanted to see her."

"Don't worry. I won't touch your horn."

The others stared at Brittany, mouths hanging open, until Rachel finally cleared her throat and stepped towards them.

"Yes, there will be no touching of any kind. Just good, clean fun."

Brittany looked at her, confused. "But I already took a bath."

"No. Not that. Karaoke."

"Oh. That's a lot better. I didn't bring any soap."

There were chips and drinks set out and a karaoke machine on the coffee table. Though Rachel tried her best to hog the thing, everyone got their turn to sing, except Kurt, who merely smacked the microphone away any time it was offered to him. He kept stealing glances at Brittany, nibbling nervously at his lip. The two of them were seated on opposite sides of the room, with Santana guarding Brittany like a watchdog and Mercedes keeping Kurt company. 

Kurt's hand had wandered to Mercedes's knee once but, after that first startled moment, she gently scolded him and moved it away. He sighed and swung his foot impatiently while Finn started up an 80s rock ballad.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their own families, though Rachel stayed to help clean up the mess left over. Kurt was cranky and frustrated by then, wanting the kind of contact he craved but couldn't have, that Burt sent him upstairs to take a nap.

It had went well, Rachel thought. They'd just have to be more vigilant, that was all. Kurt could come back to school if everyone paid attention.

x

Burt knew he'd overspent this year, but it was Kurt's first real Christmas since he was a little kid. Any other Christmas had been set in conditions best not thought about. Kurt seemed a little baffled by the whole thing, even though they'd tried to prepare him beforehand and simplified some of the traditions for him. No Santa, the many gifts put under the tree long before Christmas morning, and rounds of It's a Wonderful Life playing on the TV every time it played. 

Kurt was fascinated by the tree. He sat for hours in front of the twinkling lights, just staring at them. Occasionally, he'd shake a present, but Burt got the feeling he didn't really comprehend that there were things inside the boxes, things just for him. Finn, though, couldn't keep away from his own gifts and constantly shook them until given the go ahead to rip the wrapping paper off. 

Something clicked in Kurt's head then and, following Finn's lead, he slowly started to peel the wrapper from the boxes Burt handed him.

But the last gift was too big to wrap. Burt steered Kurt into the garage and handed him the keys to the old clunker waiting inside.

"We can fix it up together. Just the two of us."

Kurt threw his arms around him with a squeal, chanting 'car, car, car' in Burt's ear. When he'd calmed down enough, Rachel steered everyone into the living and sat Burt and Carol on the couch.

"What's this?" Burt asked with a confused smile.

"Mom, Burt," Finn said. "Me and Kurt wanted to do something special this year, so I hope you like it."

He and Kurt started together, Kurt's voice barely audible, but when it came time for their parts to split, Kurt's voice rang out, high and clear. Rachel had played the song for him over and over so he could learn it by Christmas. Of course, she'd had to bribe him with rounds of Lady Gaga karaoke, but it worked.

Burt's eyes filled with tears as he watched them sing, Carole clutching at his arm and pressing her face against his shoulder. When the last note died away, Burt tried to hug him, but Kurt shied away. He had to watch Carole be engulf by Finn arms while his own were left empty.

Kurt smiled at him apologetically and shrugged. One step at a time, Burt had to remind himself. One step at a time.

x

Burt had never intended for Kurt to drive his Christmas present any time soon, that's why he'd brought a clunker home in the first place. He figured the two of them could work on it together and, well, if it took a few months-or a few years-to get it up and running, at least Kurt had his car, just like he'd wanted.

Who knew that Kurt, the kid who hated getting his hands dirty, would take to car repair so easily? Burt was going to have to teach him to drive sooner than he thought he was. They'd have to start Kurt off light, maybe get a driver's permit, but Kurt was far too fragile to be driving on his own. The Thanksgiving Jaunt of 2011 was proof of that.

Kurt still didn't like to get his clothes messed up or his hair ruffled, so wound up wearing a pair of overalls when at the shop with Burt. He refused to wear a cap, though, looking horrified at the mere suggestion. 

"It's his hair," Carole laughed. "I think he's getting a little vain."

Yes, Kurt's ego was certainly growing, along with his closet. Burt just couldn't deny him all the things he loved, not when they made him so happy. He was like a different kid than the one Burt had brought home. Sure, he still had problems, still had occasional tantrums, but he talked and laughed now, that was what was mattered the most.

He'd stopped it with the wandering hands, too, though everyone still watched him warily, especially when he was with Brittany. The way they looked at each other sometimes...well, safe to say, the two of them weren't going to be alone together any time soon, that was for sure.

"Dad," Kurt called, and Burt looked up to see him leaning into the doorway of the shop, eyes scanning the lobby. 

Burt leaned out of his office door and called him over. "In here, buddy. What's up?"

He held out a paper with Coach Sylvester's handwriting scrawled across it. Burt noted the Cheerios uniform under his heavy winter coat.

 _Hummel's still a Cheerio_ , the note read. _Practice starts at 4 o'clock after school._

"I don't know about this," Burt said.

"Dad." Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and glared. If Burt hadn't been standing behind his desk, he knew his leg would be sporting another bruise by now. The kicking was still a problem.

Finn suddenly stuck his head inside the door. "Hey, did Kurt tell you?"

Burt waved the note in the air. "About this Cheerleading nonsense? Yeah, not going to happen."

"Dad!"

"No, Kurt. You're not going back to that school."

Kurt screamed then and started to kick Burt's desk. While Finn watched Kurt nervously, but Burt simply sat down and tried to ignore him. This was not a release of pent-up anger and frustration but a calculated ploy. Kurt knew what he was doing. 

Once he'd calmed down, Burt righted the things on his desk and looked back at him. Kurt was sitting on the floor and huffing angrily, his face red and tear-stained.

"Are you done?" Burt asked him.

"No."

"What's going on?" Finn broke in to ask.

Burt thrust the piece of paper at him. "Know anything about this?"

"Oh, yeah! Coach Sylvester wants Kurt back on the team. She seemed really intense about it."

"He doesn't even go to that school anymore."

"I know. The coach said something about helping a school board member escape from Alcatraz or something like that and now he owes her."

Burt sighed and looked at where Kurt still sat on the floor pouting with big blue eyes. Ah, hell, Burt couldn't say no, not to that face.

"Fine," he conceded. "We'll go talk to her."

Kurt bolted up from the floor and launched himself at Burt but swiped at Finn's friendly shoulder pat and muttered, "No."

He could be oddly possessive of Burt's affection sometimes, hating when people interrupted certain moments of bonding. It wasn't something just relegated to Finn, though. He'd wedged himself between Burt and Carole on the couch more than once-he still crept into bed with them on occasion, but seemed to like both their attention then.

This new quirk was taking some getting used to. The family was working it out, though, like Burt knew they could. What was most important right now was that Kurt knew he was safe and loved, that he wouldn't be hurt again. Burt refused to allow it.

When he was finally released from Kurt’s tight grip, Burt clapped Finn on the shoulder and steered him outside to the truck. Kurt climbed in to sit in the center of the long seat and immediately began to fiddle with the radio station until he found some Lady Gaga. They were at the school, then, so had to wait until the song was over before they could coax Kurt out of the vehicle.

They got more than a few odd looks as they walked down the hall. Burt just glared at the kids while Finn puffed himself up to look more threatening. He took his job as protector as seriously as Burt did now.

Kurt seemed oblivious to the stares, or maybe just used to them. He tugged the other two by the hand to Coach Sylvester’s office, so excited he was mumbling to himself under his breath, words that Burt couldn’t make out. 

“Hello, Lady,” Sue greeted him when he barged through her door. “Welcome back to McKinley.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT a true update. I just found the last chapter I'd put up on the Glee Angst Meme that I lost on my PC when I was forced to do a hard reset on its hard drive. Keep in mind that if I do do try to wrangle another chapter that a few years have passed since I last sat down and tried to write this story, so the tone will probably come out a bit different.

Kurt clutched his Cheerios uniform to his chest as he walked beside Burt to the truck. His lips were drawn up in a pleased smile, his eyes practically sparkling with happiness. They'd stopped by to see the Glee Club on the way out the door. Burt couldn't help but let Kurt back into the group, even if he couldn't actually participate in any of their official contests.

But that was it. He only got to come back to McKinley for Cheerios and Glee Club practices. The other kids-and their teachers-promised that this time, they would watch Kurt and Brittany like a hawk, never leaving the two of them alone to resume their...activities.

The arrangement still made Burt nervous, though. There were so many ways this could screw up. At least this time, there would be less people at school if Kurt freaked out again. Less witnesses to his madness.

A van nearly plowed into the side of Burt's truck on the way home, jerking them both forward in their seats. Kurt's uniform slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor but Kurt stared out the window at the vehicle zooming past instead of worrying over his clothes like he normally would.

"It's okay," Burt tried to reassure him. "We're fine."

Kurt folded in on himself, arms tucked inwards and his forehead pressed to his knees. Though the radio played some of his favorite songs, Kurt didn't move from this hunched over position. Burt frowned at the sight. He would have reached out and squeezed Kurt's knee in an attempt to reassure him but wasn't sure how the touch would be received.

"What's wrong with him?" Carole asked when they got home. "I thought he'd be bouncing off the walls by now."

Burt shook his head, watching as Kurt trudged slowly up the stairs. He'd left his uniform on the floorboard of the front passenger seat. It hung limply in Burt's hands.

"I don't know. He's just in one of his moods, I guess."

When Carole went to get him for dinner, she found him curled up in the middle of her's and Burt's bed fast asleep, a frown marring what should have been a peaceful expression on his face. He woke briefly as they climbed into bed next to him a few hours later.

"You okay, kiddo?" Burt asked, brushing Kurt's bangs off from where they'd fallen across his eyes.

Kurt blinked at him, then rolled over to burrow himself into Carole's side. She shifted so that she could pull him closer and shot Burt a worried look. Kurt never turned to her at times like this, not when Burt was right there next to him. He was acting strange, even for him.

Burt woke later that night to singing. At first, he thought it was the radio and tried to turn it off, noting the time as two in the morning, but quickly realized that the voice was too familiar to be coming from the radio.

Kurt stood in front of the window, illuminated by the streetlight outside and singing a haunting melody. Burt didn't know what the song was, but it caused goosebumps to break out on his arms and left an odd, hollow feeling in his chest.

"Kurt," Burt called when the song ended. Kurt turned to look at him but said nothing. His eyes were blank.

"Come back to bed." Carole patted the spot next to where she still lay but still Kurt didn't move, just stared at them.

Burt sat up. Was he crying?

Carole slipped out of bed to lead Kurt to bed. "Come on, honey. Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

He was gone when they woke up, having gone back to his own bed sometime in the early morning hours. He was buried under his covers, an improvement over hiding under his bed. Carole made breakfast for the guys as they got ready to go to school and work, then brought a plate up to Kurt.

He peeked his head out of the blankets at the smell of food. Instead of sitting up to eat, he snatched a few pieces of bacon off the plate and burrowed back into his hiding place. Carole winced at the thought of all those crumbs undoubtedly falling onto the bed, but she wasn't going to force him out when he still had something upsetting on his mind.

She left the plate next to him on the bed and went back downstairs. He'd come down when he was ready. Maybe they could even talk, as much as Kurt was able to, anyway. The doctors said that, due to the amount of time he spent locked away, he might never be able to communicate effectively. The window of opportunity for normal language development had slammed closed years ago.

He was a cipher. They might never know what went on in his mind, but at least they could read his emotions like a book. He was terrible at hiding when he felt sad or angry, which was far too often, and they didn't want him to hide when he felt happy and loved.

The only thing that got him out of bed was going back to school to see his friends later that afternoon. In a rare moment of kindness, Coach Sylvester had agreed to let him be late for cheerleading practice so that he could spend his first hour there with the Glee Club.

He sat between Santana and Brittany, trying to keep his hands to himself and concentrate. After yesterday, he wanted contact. If he could get Brittany alone...

"Don't even think about it," Santana said with a glare.

Kurt sighed. Everyone was watching him.

Karofsky looked at Kurt when they passed in the hallway, his gaze lingering on Kurt's back. Kurt glanced back at him, mind whirring and body still wanting wanting wanting, but got pulled away by Santana before he could dart away. He and Karofsky had shared that one kiss in the locker room. It would have lasted longer if some of the other guys hadn't shown up and thrown Karofsky back into denial.

They hadn't been alone since, which was so frustrating. Kurt's skin practically crawled from lack of sensation. He wanted to touch someone. To be touched by someone.

By the time Brittany reached for his hand, he was so keyed up that he lashed out and smacked her away. When Santana raised a hand towards him, he fled from the school, dropping his books on the way. A van nearly plowed him over as he raced across the across the street, but he barely even noticed it.

He wasn't sure how long he'd run for, but by the time he stopped, out of breath and with a stitch in his side, he'd made it all the way to a playground across town. It was an empty except for a young mother pushing her baby in a stroller.

A swingset was the closest thing to him, so Kurt sat down to catch his breath. The run had calmed him, burned off all that wanting, so it was quite easy to just listen to his own breathing as it slowed down to a more normal rhythm.

He kicked a foot and pushed away from the ground. The sway of the swing was comforting, especially with how the wind pressed against his skin, the pressure of it growing the higher he pushed himself.

Kurt used to dream of flying-vivid dreams in the darkness, ones that took him away from the life he was leading. The drugs he was sometimes given often made the dreams seem a reality. Swinging back and forth like he was now, higher and higher, felt like he was dreaming, drug-dreaming, again.

All he had to do was let go and fly away.

x

It was just liked he'd dreamed, soaring high-and then hitting the ground.

x

Burt burst through the door to the hospital and immediately rounded on the two girls sitting in the waiting room.

"You were supposed to be watching him!"

"Calm down, Papa Bear," Sue Sylvester said, stepping into Burt's line of sight. "He fell. Happens to kids every day."

"When I was five," Brittany said, "I sprained my ankle falling off the monkey bars."

Burt ignored her. "I trusted you with my son's life," he said to Sue with gritted teeth.

"And lo and behold, he lives. It's just a broken arm. He'll be fine."

"I want to see my son."

Kurt was sleeping when Burt stepped into his room. Finn sat on one side of the bed, Puck on the other. Finn straightened up at Burt's appearance, but Puck continued drawing on the cast covering Kurt's arm.

"That better not be permanent, Puckerman," Burt warned. Whatever Puck was drawing, it couldn't turn out good. The kid wasn't known for having an innocent sense of humor.

Kurt's eyes opened then and they all leaned forward, waiting for his reaction. He looked at Puck, then Finn, and sighed when his eyes fell on Burt at the end of the bed.

"How are you feeling, kid?" Burt asked.

"Ow," Kurt said.

"I bet." Burt finally moved forward and nudged Puck out of his seat so he could sit next to the hospital bed and take Kurt's good hand in his own. "Don't worry. You'll be out of here in the morning."

The painkillers in Kurt's system made him sleepy, so Burt and Finn sat with him the rest of the day, Carole and the Glee kids coming and going as visiting hours neared. Unfortunately, that was also around the time Kurt became more alert-he was certainly alert enough when the nurse came in to tell them it was time to go home.

"Dad," Kurt called when Burt tried to walk out the door.

"Look," Burt said to the nurse, feeling guilty at the look on Kurt's face. "You sure I can't stay? It's really important."

"I don't know..." the nurse hedged.

Kurt got out of bed and tried to go to Burt at the door, his mouth turning down in a frown, but Burt hurried to him and sat him back down on the bed. He tried to explain what was going on but every time he went to leave, Kurt followed after him like a lost puppy.

"Maybe you could stay until he falls asleep," the nurse finally conceded. They had to get the hospital's approval for it, but Burt got to stay at Kurt's bedside until the last of that night's medicine finally knocked him out.

He was under the bed the next morning but as soon as Burt mentioned home, he darted out and practically ran to the car in his haste to get out of the building. Finn hurried after him while Burt finished up some paperwork.

They were halfway across the parking lot when a white van cut them off.

"Hey!" Finn yelled at the driver, pulling Kurt out of the way.

The passenger side door opened and the man behind the wheel leaned across the seat to say, "Get in."

"Dude."

Looking as if he were lost in a dream, Kurt got into the van and shut the door in Finn's face. It peeled out of the parking lot before he had a chance to process what just happened.

Someone just kidnapped his brother.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the glee angst meme. That was the first place I really let go and let myself feel (and write) heavy, emotionally wringing work. I was so nervous that I'd be horrible at it, but that community was so encouraging and kind, even the criticism was constructive instead of flamey. At least, that was my experience, though I know it differs for everyone. So if anyone from that way is reading, thanks so much for all the support you gave me.
> 
> On another note, this still isn't new stuff. I'll have to start writing from scratch after this chapter. Fingers crossed that writer's block won't block me.
> 
> WARNING: child abuse, sexual and physical.

"Uhhh..." Finn glanced around the parking lot for help but the only other people nearby was an old couple hobbling slowly towards the hospital. Burt came out the door just then, so Finn ran to him. "Some took Kurt!"

"What do you mean, 'took Kurt'?" Burt asked, frowning as he looked around the parking lot for his other son.

"Kurt just got in some guy's van and they drove away. Aren't those guys supposed to offer candy first?"

Burt hurried to the middle of the parking lot, turning in small circles. Shouting Kurt's name didn't help. He was too far away by now.

x

Kurt stared at his lap. The man who sat beside him wasn't one of the original men who'd taken Kurt after his mother's murder, but he'd shown up often. Sometimes he was nice and slipped Kurt some small pills that made the world swirl. Mostly, he hit. Now, though, he glared at the road they were speeding down.

"Howie should have come get you himself, if he wanted you back so much."

Simon, his name was Simon, Kurt remembered. He'd heard it once when shielding himself from sharp blows. A woman had been screaming it.

They continued on in silence. By the time they pulled up to an abandoned building somewhere out in the woods, Kurt's arm was throbbing and he had to keep his teeth his teeth clenched to keep from screaming in pain and frustration. Kicking at the dashboard with his foot had helped but getting smacked upside the head put a stop to that not long after he'd started.

The building was long and made up of smaller rooms. Not apartment style, but more like...a hotel. Kurt gasped when he recognized the place and stumbled away from the truck. Grant just grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him along.

The room he got tossed into looked the same as the last time he'd seen it. A lamp still lay on the floor and the bed, though stripped of its blankets, was still stained red. Kurt stood frozen, staring at it, while Grant talked on his cell phone.

Some of the words, like 'kill or keep', made it past Kurt's dazed brain, but he was too transfixed by the bed. He started to lean down to crawl under it like his mother had told him to so many years ago, but Grant grabbed him by the shoulder.

He'd been pulled out from under the bed then and now, caught up in past memories and current fear, Kurt screamed and lashed out. He didn't even notice the pain radiating from his hurt arm, just kicked and screamed as he was pulled along the floor.

Grant hauled him up, threw him into the closet, then shut the door.

Kurt kicked the wall and kept yelling, until a sharp, blinding pain from his arm caused him to black out. He woke up later in complete darkness, no light even creeping in under the door. Kurt kicked half-heartedly at the wall. His arm still hurt really bad and he had to pee. He could take care of bathroom issues, though now he cringed at the thought of having to sleep next to his own filth, but there was nothing he could do about his arm.

Luckily, the bedroom light came on soon after. Grant talked on the phone for a few minutes while Kurt rocked back and forth trying to calm himself. He felt ready to burst by the time he got dragged back out of the closet and allowed a bathroom break.

A brown car sat next to the van when they went outside, the outline of a man visible through the windowshield.

"Hey, Kurt." Howard grinned at him when he got sandwiched between the two men in the front seat. One hand lingered too long on Kurt's knee. When he tried to swat it away, Grant smacked him again.

Kurt gripped his arm and closed his eyes as Howard's hands roamed.

x

Back in Lima, Burt sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, guilt and worry making his stomach churn unpleasantly. He'd promised Kurt that no one-no one!-would ever hurt him again and now, who knew what he was going through?

"Where's Finn? Did he go to school?"

"Yeah," Carole said. "He said something about a Glee Club meeting. I think they want to talk about Kurt."

x

"Right," Rachel said, smacking the giant map behind her with a sharp looking pointer. "This is the spot Kurt was last seen." She moved it in a circle around where the hospital was located. "Given the time he's been gone and how far a white...type...van can travel in two day's time, we can assume he's somewhere in this area."

"What, exactly, are you basing this on?" Artie asked. Everyone else continued to side-eye her, clearly unhappy.

Rachel's eyes darted away. "On...math."

"I don't think guessing is math," Quinn said.

"Lord Tubbington does my parents' taxes," Brittany added. "He adds it up on a calculator."

After a moment of silence, the group turned back to Rachel.

"What were we going to do?" Quinn asked. "Wander around the streets calling Kurt's name?"

"Well-"

"In case you hadn't noticed, he's been kidnapped. I don't think he's going to pop up around the corner just because Rachel Berry wants to see him."

"Wait a minute," Finn started to protest, but got cut off by Santana, who stood with her hand still wrapped around Brittany's.

"I don't care if he's gone to Mars," she said. "It's making Britt upset. I say we make like Sue Sylvester and track down our man." Santana paused, then shrugged. "And bring a bazooka. What? You know she would."

x

_Kurt sat down with Burt on the bed and for a moment he thought that maybe, just this once, he was going to get his way. Kurt put a hand on his dad's knee, only to have him grip it gently and move it away, letting their interlocked hands fall on top of the blankets._

_"Look, Kurt, I know this is something you have trouble with-just know that this-" He gestured between them with a finger. "-isn't supposed to be given away to just anybody. It's got to mean more than the crap those guys put you through."_

_Kurt stared at him, confused. Burt wasn't 'just anybody'. Those people who had dragged him from his nice, safe closet were the ones who were 'just anybody'. Finn, Carole. Rachel and Brittany. None of them were 'just anybody'. Even Karofsky wasn't. They all had names. Like Howard and Dean-they had names, too, so it was okay._

_"It's okay," Kurt murmured, moving closer._

_Burt let him but watched warily for any signs of inappropriateness he might try to sneak past. He fumbled in his back pocket for the papers he'd stuck there for today._

_"I know you know the mechanics," he said while Kurt looked at the pamphlets in Burt's hands curiously. "But, you know, I did this with Finn last year-kid thought you could get a girl pregnant by...nevermind, it's not important. What I'm trying to say is, you matter, Kurt. Do you understand?"_

_Kurt shrugged. What did that mean, anyway?_

x

The opening strains of Bad Romance woke Kurt up from where he dozed in the front seat. He hadn't been sleeping, not really. His arm hurt too bad for that. He had been dreaming, though. About his dad and being someone who mattered.

While Howard snored in the back seat, Grant started to sing-horribly off key-under his breath. Kurt stared at him, a strange, numb feeling coming over him. The pain in his arm became a background ache, nothing to bother him now.

"I don't have to," he murmured just loud enough for Grant to hear him.

"What?"

Kurt looked at the radio, then at Grant and back again. "I don't have to."

When the song ended a few seconds later, he leaned over and yanked the wheel. As he and Grant struggled for control, the car swerved dangerously along the narrow road. Howard joined in the fun when he was jolted from sleep, so that all their hands became entangled on the steering wheel.

Grant slammed on the brakes by accident, nearly sending both Kurt and Howard through the windshield. Cursing he hit the gas pedal. The sudden drop of his foot sent the car shooting forward, straight for one of the many trees around them.

Kurt's head struck the windshield and, mercifully, he blacked out.

x

While Artie, Puck, Mike, and Tina went around town asking questions and handing out flyers, the others divvied up into separate cars to search the surrounding area. They couldn't have gotten far.

"I don't know," Sam said, shaking his head. "These guys are criminals, right? They're probably in Canada by now."

Rachel turned from her seat in the passenger seat and shot him a stern glance. "Being negative won't help Kurt."

"It doesn't look like being positive is doing much to help, either."

"Rachel," Finn said softly.

She turned to him with big, tear-filled eyes. "I'm worried, Finn. What if something's happened to him?"

"He'll be okay. Kurt's tougher than he looks."

Truthfully, Kurt Hummel was more fragile than anybody Finn had ever known. Sure, he'd gotten better since moving in, but he had constant relapses. Most likely, he was hiding somewhere now, afraid to come out.

x

There was something underneath Kurt’s foot. He blinked and sat up, his whole body aching, his arm throbbing more painfully than the new cut on his forehead. Swiping at the blood in his eyes, Kurt slowly moved his head downwards towards the floorboard.

It was a cellphone. He glanced at the still bodies beside him, then reached out-again, so slowly-to scrabble his fingers around its sleek surface. When he straightened back up, the world tilted, grayed. A deep breath put it right, sharpening the shattered, bloody windshield and amplifying the light breathing on his left.

Grant’s hand twitched.

Kurt glanced at Howard, who looked like he was sleeping, except his chest didn’t move up and down like Grant’s did. He was dead.

At Grant’s first groan, Kurt scrambled across Howard’s body toward the door, which stuck tight. The only way out was through the broken window. The small cuts gained didn’t really hurt, not compared with the rest of his body. He landed on his broken arm when falling from the hood of the car. The pain was overwhelming.

When he woke back up, he felt numb, half-buried in snow and staring at the tree they’d slammed into.

"Damn it." Grant rattled the driver's side door, making the metal screech.

Kurt stumbled to his feet, cellphone still clutched in one hand, and started to stumble away from the car and further into the woods, far too aware of Grant yelling after him.

He felt sleepy and just wanted to lay down and go to sleep, but he wanted to sleep tucked safely away in his father’s bed, under a warm blanket with both Burt and Carole both comforting weights beside him. He couldn’t stop, though. Not until either he or Grant dropped.

Only one could survive the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that seems to be all I've got on the angst meme. It was closer to an ending than I remembered.


End file.
